Visions Among Us
by WolfieRed23
Summary: All tales, at their core, have a grain of truth to them. So even when they die, the connections forged remain. But that's the sad truth when it comes to legends and tales. They always die. Lost to time and forgotten by humanity. That, or they were nothing more than fiction to begin with.
1. Chapter 1:Prologue

o.0.o.0.o

 _All tales, at their core, have a grain of truth to them_

o.0.o.0.o

"Emm? Emm, are you there?"

Emmeryn smiled softly as her impatient brother hardly bothered to knock, barging into her study. She stood, setting aside her favorite fairy tale to address him.

"Honestly, Chrom," she sighed, yet smiled nonetheless. "What if I were reviewing an important deal with Plegia?"

Chrom glanced at the book in her hands, crossing his arms with a mockingly suspicious chuckle.

"Unless that deal includes those silly fairy tales you're so enamored with, I hardly doubt that's the case."

"Perhaps." Emmeryn couldn't help but laugh with him. Crossing her legs and folding her hands, she met his gaze. "So. Who tipped you off? Frederick? Phila?"

"Miriel." Chrom answered. Emmeryn let out a small hum. That was her third guess. Even though they lived apart, Miriel was a good friend who almost acted as a walking pocketbook schedule for her. That, and the woman who made sure she, as the Queen and main diplomate of Ylisse, didn't get too lost within the world of fiction. "She just wanted me to make sure you didn't miss Lissa's first day."

"She honestly either underestimates me," Emmeryn spoke as she stood. "Or overextends herself."

"Maybe a bit of both." Chrom laughed under his breath, following his sister out the door. "But I never understood that fascination of fairy tales you have. I get that every girl is giddy over the classics, but you're not even into the stereotypical Disney stuff. Your favorites are these out of touch tales that I've never ever heard of."

"... Not entirely out of touch, Chrom." Emmeryn smiled softly, approaching Lissa's bedroom door and knocking three times. "Lissa?"

Immediately, the door slammed open, and a frantic Lissa stood on the other side, looking on the verge of tears. She was already dressed in her uniform, wearing a pleated black skirt with a white button up, black tie, black knee-highs, and a green blazer with the school's emblem over her heart, an iris within a shield.

"Emm, I don't know what I'm gonna do!" her hand frantically grasped at her hair. Strands of the curly blond locks were flying every which way. "They won't lay flat and nothing I do is working!"

"Chrom, why don't you go get the car started so that you're ready to go as soon as we're done." Emmeryn simply smiled, inviting herself into her younger sister's bedroom and guiding her in front of the mirror. Grabbing a brush, she gave Lissa's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "There, there, Lissa. No need for all the tears."

"Emm, it's just terrible. Of all the days for a bed head!" Lissa exclaimed, rubbing at her eyes. "What am I going to do…?"

"I'll tell you what we'll do." Emmeryn smiled, running a brush through Lissa's hair, then swiftly pulling both sides into cute, albeit, messy pigtails. "We'll fix this hair, get you in the car, and have Chrom speeding out of our driveway before Frederick knows what hit him."

That made Lissa laugh. After all, how could it not? Despite Frederick being nearly the same age as Emmeryn herself, he took to caring for them much like a mother bear would. It was fitting, considering that their parents have died, so having such a stabilizing figure in their lives was extremely beneficial, specifically to Lissa, who barely remembers what their mother and father were like. But due to stepping up so drastically, especially with him being so young, Frederick tended to… overdo it. Specifically when it came to advising Harold, Ylisse's primary diplomat until Emmeryn came of age, that all three siblings should be homeschooled for their own protection and safety.

Eventually, Frederick became Chrom and Lissa's personal tutor, butler, and guard dog of sorts. But since Chrom started attending Shield of Flames University, Lissa herself became desperate to be 'normal' and attend schooling as well. So, under Frederick and Phila's noses, along with a little help from Miriel and Chrom, Emmeryn enrolled her sixteen-year-old sister as Alissa Junos in Iris Academy of the Elite.

Truly, she worried for Lissa. After all, Lissa has never been off the grounds nor has she made a public appearance since their parents had died. On one hand, Emmeryn feared someone finding out who she was and trying to take advantage of her prestige that way, but on the other, she knew that Lissa needed this. Emmeryn herself could admit being grateful for diplomatic trips to Valm and Plegia. After all, if she were stuck with an overbearing Frederick overlooking every move _she_ made, she'd surely go insane!

"Hurry up now," Emmeryn said as Lissa stood, quickly gathering all her things together in her yellow totebag, rushing to slip on her shoes. "The last thing we need is Frederick intervening."

"Got that right!" Lissa laughed. Emmeryn smiled, happy that Lissa was in a better mood. Quickly, both made it to the front door, where Chrom sat, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel of his squeaky-clean, brand new car.

"Now remember," Emmeryn put her hands on Lissa's shoulders. "You're enrolled under Alissa Juno. You can say Lissa is your nickname, but we can't have people knowing you're Princess Lissa Iris of Ylisse, understand?"

"Don't worry!" Lissa grinned. "I'll be fine!"

"Don't get to caught up in your fairy tales, Emm!" Chrom called from the window as Lissa ducked inside. Emmeryn simply cocked her head and smiled at her brother.

"Please don't total another car, Chrom."

Chrom flinched, gripping the steering wheel.

"That was only two times!"

"But what about-" Lissa began.

"That third time wasn't my fault!" Chrom exclaimed. "That deer came out of nowhere, I had no choice but to swerve and hit that pole!"

Emmeryn couldn't help but let out a semi-exasperated, worried sigh. It would hardly do for the public to know that Chrom had more than one accident, one of which resulted in a rather large hole on the property wall, the other, significant damage to the fountain in front of their house. So at this point, she could only pray that he made it to the high school safely.

"Drive! Oh my god Chrom, put the car in drive!"

The screech of brakes and the car jolting back, along with Lissa screaming that sentence made Emmeryn question if this was really a good idea.

As her brother's car faded from sight and she turned back towards the mansion, she coincidentally ran into Frederick, who looked as if he had just arrived from the back entrance. He quirked an eyebrow.

"It seems I cannot find Lissa. I knocked several times on her door, and she didn't answer."

Emmeryn smiled, folding her hands.

"That's because Lissa's not going to need you as a full time educator anymore. I've decided to enroll her in Iris Academy of the Elite."

Frederick's face instantly went into shock, and he brushed past her.

"Absolutely not." he said simply. "Lissa hasn't been outside the mansion in thirteen years, and the world gets more dangerous by the day."

"Frederick, it's a very well guarded school. It's been created to protect the most brilliant of minds of this society."

"... I don't care, this is ridiculous." Frederick answered. "There's reasons that I-"

"Frederick, Lissa needs this." Emmeryn insisted. "She needs the social interaction. Besides, Maribelle has been enrolled there since she entered high school, and you know how protective Maribelle is of Lissa. Everything will be fine, and then Chrom will drive her home."

Frederick looked back at her, a look of outright horror on his face.

"You… let Chrom drive?"

She nodded once.

"And Chrom will continue to drive her until she graduates."

"... I'll agree to this on one condition," Frederick held up his finger. "I will never, ever bother you or Chrom or Lissa about allowing her to go to this school, but _only_ if you allow me to drive her to school, and to _never_ let Chrom in or near another car ever again."

Emmeryn couldn't hide the smile on her face.

"I knew you'd be compilable, Frederick."

With those parting words, she left Frederick's side and went back to her study. Though she knew she should probably pick up with where she left off with her papers last night, she instead found her hand moving towards her favorite tale again. She decided then that she would set her alarm for an hour, enjoy the tale she no doubt knew by heart, and then get back to work.

Quickly, she wished Lissa good luck, then proceeded to reading. Within minutes, she received a text back.

 _Thanks Emm! I got here safely, against all odds… Oh! And Chrom wanted me to remind you, yet again, to not get caught up in silly fairy tales. Love you~!_

Emmeryn smiled, setting her phone down and looking back to the pages of her book.

o.0.o.0.o

 _So even when those legends, those small grains of truth, die, the connections forged remain regardless._

o.0.o.0.o

Donnel felt really stiff and uncomfortable in the fancy uniform that he had to wear for his new school, but at the same time, his heart was pounding against his ribcage.

He did not belong in this place.

As Ella pulled up to the front of the school, that was the only thing that went through his head. His bumpkin rear did not belong in a school that looked like it was more along the lines of a mansion. He glanced at Ella, and she looked as awed as he.

"Why did you get me into this mess, Sis?" he groaned, bowing his head in his hands.

Already, people were walking by their pickup truck, staring and snickering. Ella tapped him on the shoulder, and he lifted his head. His mute sister began to speak in sign language, smiling reassuringly all the way.

" _This is going to be beneficial for you, Donny."_ she signed. " _You're smarter than you think, smarter than half the richies who got here on daddy's dime."_

Judging by the look in her eye, Donnel knew her tone wasn't malicious. Rather, it was playful, teasing. She was making fun of the other kids here.

But it didn't make it any better for him.

Donnel and his mother used to live out in the sticks with his Pa. Honestly, Donnel was fine with the way his life was going. He was getting a general public education in his little stick town, he was a decent student, and didn't plan to do nothing more than graduate and take care of the farm with his Ma and Pa for the rest of his life.

However, it all changed when Ella moved out, and his Pa died from a heart attack way too soon. Ella graduated a couple years back, when Donnel was about thirteen and she was eighteen. Right after that, their Pa died. With that, Ella was determined to make herself a success, so she, of all things, bought a theatre. Despite Ella's total inexperience, she insisted that the place was doing really well. Three years later, Ella excitedly emailed him a contest for a full scholarship for the Iris Academy of the Elite, including a link with a video of the Queen of Ylisse, Emmeryn Iris herself, promising to pay for one lucky but deserving student who could sway her with a good letter about their life and why they deserved to attend the school. In turn, Emmeryn would pay for the rest of the student's schooling in honor of the her descendents, in which the school was named after.

Donnel wasn't interested, honestly. 'Cause after he looked up the school… Well, Queen Emmeryn was a nice lady no doubt, but he didn't feel his life story was nor his skill was nearly deserving of going to such a prestigious academy. Seriously, it was right in the schools name: Iris Academy for the _Elite._ And Donnel, in no way, considered himself _elite._

But after constant pestering from his sister and his mother, he was finally done in when his Ma pulled the ultimate 'your father would have wanted this for you' guilt card. So he wrote up something about his life and family. About how his Ma and Pa adopted Ella when she was eleven and he was six, how hardworking all of them were, how he grew up in a small farm town that used to be safe, but was becoming increasingly unstable due to criminal activity… He ended it with admitting that he didn't really care about winning, but since his Pa died, as the man of the house, he just wanted his Ma and sister to be happy and safe, so if getting a better education ensured that… Then he'd do it.

Next thing he knew, he had gotten a handwritten letter from Emmeryn herself, alongside a congratulatory letter of acceptance. Him! Little 'ole Donny from the sticks! His Ma began crying almost immediately, and when they brought Ella up on video chat, he was pretty certain she would've screamed if she could.

Next thing he knew, his Ma was packing him up and shipping him off to live with Ella in her apartment. He was scared about leaving his Ma alone, especially with the rise of criminals in his town… But he was also assured by the men that worked on his Pa's farm for years that they would make sure she was okay.

" _You'll be okay,"_ Ella reassured again. " _But I've got a big show coming up at the theatre, and auditions are today, so…"_

Her hands hovered hesitantly. Clearly, she was hesitant to say it, but Donnel could take a hint. Ella needed him to skedaddle so she could get to work.

"Have fun at work, Sis…" Donnel trailed off, starting to open the door, when he felt her tug at his sleeve again. He looked back, and she smiled, signing something to him.

" _You'll do fine. You have my every confidence, Donny."_

Donnel was quiet, then smiled.

"Thanks, Ella."

As he hopped out of the truck, he gave his sister one more wave, and she gave him a thumbs up. Exhaling, he looked around at the multitude of expensive-looking cars, then glanced at the dirty pickup truck that he and Ella shared. Adjusting his baseball cap on his head, he began to walk towards the front of the school.

The parking lot was across the street from the entrance of the school, so Donnel began to make his way to the pedestrian crossing. Looking both ways, he saw no one was coming, so he adjusted his grip on his bookbag and began to cross. As he was halfway across however...

" _OH MY GOD, STOP, STOP, STOP!"_

There was a screech of tires and as Donnel turned, he stumbled back. A silver car practically ran him over, coming so close that when it stopped, his hands instinctively jerked out and hit the hood of the car, as if he hoped that would keep it from plowing him down.

His heart was excellerating a mile a minute as he stepped back, though the tinted windows kept him from getting a good look at the driver and the passenger.

"You almost hit him!" then, a girl got out of the car. She had blonde hair up in pigtails, and was wearing what he guessed was the female version of the school uniform. "Oh my god, you almost hit him! I swear, I don't care if Frederick finds out about this, you're never driving me again!"

"Hey, you alright?" the male who was driving rolled the window down and stared out the window. His eyes were worried and apologetic. "I'm really sorry!"

"I-I'm fine." Donnel managed to stutter out. Swallowing and tugging at his tie a little, he stepped away from the car. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Oh, what a relief." the girl sighed, placing a hand over her heart. Then, she turned back to the male driving. "I mean it! Never again! I'm texting Emm right now!"

The male sighed as Donnel made a point to shuffle towards the sidewalk, out of the way of this maniac driver.

"I'll see you later Lissa," the male said. The girl, Lissa, let out a huff.

"It better be at home, and not in that car!"

With that, she slammed the door shut. The driver almost immediately slammed on the gas, though Donnel had a feeling that it was unintentional, as it was followed by an immediate jerk of the car due to him slamming on the breaks. Lissa bowed her head, shaking her head.

"I knew my brother was a bad driver, but I didn't know it was _that_ bad…" she trailed off worriedly, then immediately turned to him. "Anyways, I apologize on his behalf! Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm really fine!" Donnel insisted kindly. "Er, he called you Lissa?"

"Um!" she gasped, then stuttered, then stuck out her hand. "A-Alissa! Alissa Juno! But you can call my Lissa, if you want."

"I'm Donnel Tinhead, but most everyone around here calls me Donny."

With that, he grasped her hand, shaking it firmly. However, he did not expect the shock of electricity that shot up his arm. Lissa seemed surprised as well, but quickly dropped his hand, staring at her palm for a minute.

Then, a phone dinged. Lissa jumped slightly, as if surprised, then pulled her phone out of her pocket, glancing at it.

"Oh, shoot!" Lissa looked up at him. "Say, are you a sophomore too? Think you can lead me to the square here? I'm new and I'm trying to find my friend."

"Er, well-"

"C'mon, please? It'll be easy to spot her, she's a little taller than me, always has her hair in these really pretty thick, blonde curls, and mauve eyes. Her name is Maribelle Themis! Please, you've gotta help me!"

"Um… Um…"

"Great, thanks!"

With that, she latched onto his arm, and began to drag him into what might as well be the unknown.

o.0.o.0.o

 _But that's the sad truth when it comes to legends and tales._

o.0.o.0.o

Olivia clenched her fists in front of the theatre. The bulbs that should be flashing were off, but that was understandable. After all, it was daytime… But the huge letters were still slightly intimidating. _Feroxi Theatre_ was above her, and underneath, in black letters on the marquee: _Auditions for Masked Murder at the Ballet by acclaimed Henry Crow today from 8:00AM to 7:00PM_

It was approximately nine in the morning, and Olivia was stuck twiddling her thumbs, wondering if she should really do this. Henry Crow was an up and coming theatre director and writer, becoming renowned in the theatre world for his dark and twisted plays, effects made strangely realistic in ways not quite known to the public yet.

Olivia wasn't sure, however, if she wanted to have her name attached to such a production. She's had some small backup parts in this theatre before, but she desperately needed money, any money. Rent was due, and if she could get something bigger than a backup dancer here, she could secure her home for a little while longer…

But she was just so nervous! She was so afraid she was going to stutter like crazy, but even still…

Clenching her folder of her resume and experience, Olivia reminded herself that living in a crummy apartment was better than living on the street, even if it meant being known as the lead girl in a mass murder show.

Exhaling, she opened the familiar theatre door, and was surprised by the plethora of actors and actresses filling the lobby.

"Are you here to audition?"

Olivia jumped, turning to her right and seeing a very tall, plain-faced brunette man. She nodded.

"I-I'm here t-t-to audition for a part, a-any part!"

The man nodded once.

"Okay. My name is Kellam, and I'm a stagehand around here. But today, Ella tasked me to gather resumes and stuff… But it seems I'm not doing as well as my partner…"

His gaze trailed off to a girl with a red ponytail, excitedly talking to other actresses as she gathered resumes.

"O-Oh." Olivia said simply. "Um, are you both new? I've worked here before but I've never seen you before."

Kellam looked slightly disappointed for a second.

"Anna's new. I've been here for almost five years…"

Olivia wasn't sure how to answer to that, suddenly feeling really guilty. Kellam was here before the new owners took over? Good gracious, she never noticed…

"Um, here." Olivia held out her resume. "H-Hopefully I'll s-see you again!"

Kellam nodded, graciously accepting her folder and then… just disappearing. Olivia had no clue where he went, he just… went poof.

Olivia looked around, trying to find a place to sit, but the place was so packed that she simply… couldn't. Whoever this Henry Crow guy is… he must be pretty popular if this many people are coming to the show…

"Alright, alright!" a cheerful voice came from the stage area. Olivia lifted her head and the room went silent. A white haired young man stood there, probably no older than her. He was grinning from ear to ear, and had a clipboard in hand. Again, Olivia had never seen him before, so she wondered where on earth he had come from and when he was hired. "Hello everyone! So if you didn't read the sign, this audition is for Masked Murder at the Ballet, a new theatre production by none other than Henry Crow! Now, if you don't know his name, you should know he's known for his dark themes and acting, as well as his, ahem,"

His grin seemed to grow as he continued.

" _Murderous_ tendencies in his plays. So! If any of you can't handle blood, gore, or otherwise creepy acting, save us some time and skedaddle!"

No one really said a word. Olivia herself found his… strangely disturbing enthusiasm off putting.

"Everyone good? Great! Glad we avoided something that could have been caCAWstrophic!" he laughed at what Olivia assumed was a pun. She didn't get it, and as she looked around, she was a little relieved. No one else seemed to get it either. "Alright then, we'll start with our ladies! First up is Bethany Austin!"

A confident looking brunette stood and strode across the lobby. Olivia looked around again, searching for a familiar face until finally, she saw one, trapped within a sea of women.

Virion Roseanne was a fairly popular actor in this theatre. His parents were significantly rich, and basically helped to pay for his spectacular penthouse apartment and were completely supportive of his dreams… or so he liked to brag. Even if he was a little flamboyant and a huge flirt, he knew how to put on a show and could fit into any act. Olivia had no doubt that he would play a significant role in this play.

"Ah, fair Olivia!" Virion caught her gaze, smiling arrogantly as he strode over to her. "How wonderful it is to be in the presence of your beauty once again!"

"V-Virion, please don't…" she whispered under her breath. "I'm already nervous enough as it is."

"And whatever for?" Virion immediately demanded. "You've got the beauty of a thousand flowers and the talent of a woman whose been performing for decades."

"B-But I'm going f-for a more m-main role this time." Olivia whispered. "Rent's c-coming up and I'm g-gonna fall behind if I don't get s-something good."

"Well then, dear, why not come live with me, in my penthouse?" Virion offered with a confident smirk that made Olivia feel both embarrassed and even more nervous. "It will be lovely, you will be worry free, and-"

"Virion." the sharp, commanding voice of the head costume designer, Cherche, cut through them both like a knife. However, she was smiling as she spoke. "You best not be scaring off prospective actresses. What will Minerva say?"

"Minerva?" some other actresses who seemed interested in Virion suddenly recoiled in disgust.

"No, wai-" Virion exclaimed, turning around. Cherche, however cut himself off.

"Yes, Minerva." Cherche smiled at them. "Has he spoken of her? She's very possessive, practically pounces on him as soon as he gets home."

Several women shot him dirty looks and walked away. Virion looked aghast at this development, then turned to glare at Cherche.

"Honestly, Cherche, it's like you're trying to completely ruin my reputation!"

"Oh, no, Virion, you do that all on your own." Cherche laughed to herself. "And besides, Minerva will know… She's such a smart doggy, she will _always_ know when you're out of line."

Virion flinched slightly, and Olivia glanced between them. Supposedly, this Minerva is Cherche's dog… And apparently scary if Virion was flinching back like so.

"Olivia," Cherche smiled gently. "Don't feel overwhelmed. I'm glad to see that you're back here."

"Th-Thank you, Cherche."

Cherche had a calming presence in the theatre. She knew how to take charge of her department and reign everyone's craziness in without being terrifying… It was only when she mentioned Minerva that one knew she was in trouble.

"Wh-Who's judging this time around?" Olivia asked. Typically, Ella always judged, and then she would drag a stagehand or someone to judge. Cherche smiled.

"Olivia, if I tell you that, then you're going to get all nervous." she patted her on the shoulder. "Just calm down, you'll be fine."

With that, Cherche ducked back into the theatre, leaving Olivia to wallow in her own nervousness.

Soon, most of the lobby was cleared with the exception of her. Finally, the white-haired man came back, practically singing her name.

"Olivia Kelley~!"

She jumped up, looking over to him. He simply grinned, smiling at her.

"P-Present!" she stuttered out.

"You're up!" the young man grinned, and she nervously walked up to him. He led her towards the backstage entrance, chattering the whole way. "I've gotta be honest, this Henry Crow guy is a real stickler! I heard that none of the dancers made the cut for him yet!"

Olivia swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. This news did not help her anxiety at all. But nonetheless…

"Alright!" he patted her on the shoulder, pushing her out of the wings. "Break a leg!"

She glanced back at him for a moment then looked down from the stage. She saw Ella watching her with a smile, and Demyan, a purple-haired stagehand, looked to be sleeping. Even still, she felt their eyes on her form, and she felt paralyzed with embarrassment. Her eyes caught the white haired boy as she looked over at him, and he gave her a brief nod.

Then, she turned back towards Ella. She needed this. She needed it to survive. Exhaling slightly, she heard music begin to play around her. It was a low, the violins making dark sounds that reminded her of a terrifyingly nervous walk through a dark woods.

Without being aware of it, Olivia found herself performing the routine she felt she had perfected.

She pirouetted, leapt, held herself in an arabesque and turned with the beat of the music. She lost herself, her only thoughts on the dance as it consumed her and she allowed it. This feeling was unlike anything else, it was freeing in a way nobody could ever understand.

As the music came to an end, Olivia extended her arms above her head before she slowly lowered them to in front of her. She finally opened her eyes and met those of the judge in front of her. Ella stood clapping happily. That seemed to rouse Demyan a bit, and he was staring with half-lidded and sleepy eyes.

"Saaaaaaaaay~!" Olivia snapped her gaze to the wings, and saw the white-haired boy approaching her. "That was pretty good! Olivia, right?"

Olivia averted her eyes from his gaze, hiding her eyes with her bangs. But she nodded in response to his question.

"Can you sing?"

"C-Can I sing?" she echoed. Simply, she shrugged her shoulders. "I-I don't know. I-I'm probably n-not any good…"

"Try singing this for me!" The white haired boy requested as he handed her a script with a specific song already open and prepared. As Olivia's eyes landed on the song title, she had to stifle a slight laugh. The song's title was 'The Black Crow'. Considering all the crow puns he's made all day… "I promise it's CAWsome!"

"A-are you s-sure?" Olivia asked hesitatingly. "I...I'm r-really not that t-talented…"

Ella clapped her hands and began gesturing wildly at her. Olivia knew that she was mute, but she wasn't fluent enough in sign language yet to understand her fully.

"Um…"

"She's saying that you're being nonsensical for being so scared to try." Demyan suddenly said. "And that no one's going to laugh if you try."

With that, Ella grinned brightly, indicating that Demyan was right. But then…

"Just so long as this hurries the hell up…" he grumbled. Ella suddenly grabbed a stack of folders on the seat next to her, and smacked him in the head with it. That shut him up quick. With him now quiet, Ella turned back to her and the white-haired boy and grinned, nodding reassuringly.

"Hey, why don't we sing it together?" The white haired boy suddenly suggested. At this point, Olivia was sure his smile could not get any wider, for if it did, it would most definitely be 'from ear to ear'.

"T-together? W-Wait a second." Olivia's eyes shot up to meet his own. "Isn't this for a female r-role? I-I thought you weren't allowed to h-have duet audition…"

"I'm sure Ella won't mind," he glanced back at the owner. "Right, Ella?"

Ella shook her head, then gave them a thumbs up, giving them the okay.

"B-But even still…" Olivia glanced down at her feet. "... I don't know, this just doesn't seem fair…"

"You're a crazy lady. I'm not interested in auditioning, I'm helping _you_ audition!" he exclaimed, seemingly missing that she thought it was unfair to the other auditioners. "C'mon! It's not that hard, nyaha! Let's do it together, crazy lady!"

"How am I c-crazy? You're the one h-helping m-me out when you're not even i-interested in the sh-show." Olivia pointed out. Henry simply smiled, then inhaled.

"Okay, if you're nervous, just focus here," he pointed to his face, still smiling. "And smile, 'cause it'll all work out."

For whatever reason, Olivia felt herself relaxing slightly. Closing her eyes and exhaling, she built up her courage and read over the words of the song. Nodding once, the young man gave a thumbs up to the sound director in the wings. More dark and foreboding music began to play.

Then, she opened her mouth, and began to sing.

o.0.o.0.o

 _Tales and legends, they always die. Lost to time and forgotten by humanity. That…_

o.0.o.0.o

"Finally!" Demyan jumped up from his seat, stretching as the doors swung shut behind the last auditioning actress. "God, that was boring. How many times can you watch the same desperate actors try again and again to get a part?"

" _As many times as it takes to get it right."_ Ella signed, then turned to Henry. In addressing him, she began to write in the notebook she was carrying. " _So, Henry,"_ she wrote. " _Any specific ideas for roles?"_

"Well," Henry flipped through his clipboard, glancing over little notes he wrote in the margins next to each actor and actress. "This Virion fellow was pretty decent, though I think he'd be better as our main hero rather than our villain."

" _It's hard for me to imagine Virion as a villain,"_ Ella agreed. " _Unless, of course, it were a comedy and the villain was starkly overdramatic."_

There was a lull in the conversation as Henry continued to rattle off names and parts with Ella furiously scribbling down the names. Truth be told, Henry normally wouldn't have come to help out a friend in such desperate need. Much like people, he believed that if a business was dying, it was best to just let it die.

But Ella was different. She was an old friend who contacted him out of nothing more than pure desperation. She needed something to fill her theatre, and while he didn't hold himself to so high an esteem, Henry knew when something was decently big… And apparently, his dark twist on theatre was the perfect hook for curious citizens. So after ignoring her for a few months, Henry finally gave in when she brought up the favor that he owed her. People may think he's strange and creepy- their words, not his- but he knew when to return a favor.

So he flew down here to check return the small favor he owed her, and that was it.

A part of him, however, could agree with Demyan. The smell of desperation was strong here, and it was a little overwhelming.

He felt something tap him on the shoulder, and Henry turned to see Ella holding up her notebook.

" _Do you have any ideas for our female protagonist?"_

"Easy." Henry said simply. "Olivia Kelley."

Ella let out a hum of worry. Henry quirked an eyebrow.

"What?"

Ella tapped her pencil against her chin, as if contemplating something, then wrote something down and showed it to him.

" _Olivia is very talented. She's worked here before as a backup singer and dancer, but she lacks confidence. I'm afraid she'll break under pressure…"_

"No way." Henry shook his head. "She's gonna be my lead. If you think that she's gonna struggle, then I've got a simple solution," he grinned a wide, happy grin. "I'll work with her one and one so she'll be a star."

Ella looked utterly horrified at that prospect, quickly scribbling something into sketchpad.

" _Do not traumatize her! Please don't traumatize her!"_

"Nyahaha!" Henry laughed. "You're as crazy as Olivia! Why would I traumatize my star? That's goofy!"

o.0.o.0.o

 _Or those legends are nothing more than fragments of fiction._

o.0.o.0.o

 **Hello everyone, and welcome to the prologue of Visions Among Us! This story is a gift for Amy47101 as well as a collab with her. This story is based off of her story Fire Emblem Awakening: Unbreakable Ties, so any OCs that appear or are mentioned (such as Ella and Demyan) belong to her.**

 **Anyway, we both hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let us know what you think in a review and we'll see you all again soon! Bye!**


	2. Chapter 2:Thistle and Violets

o.0.o.0.o

Sumia couldn't help but yawn as she walked out of the diner, book bag over her shoulder along with textbooks balanced precariously in her hand. Most normal people, Sumia figured, would wonder why she wasn't carrying her books in the bag, and that was simple; she was practicing.

Hands down, Sumia considered herself the klutziest person she ever knew. If anything was in her path, she tripped over it. Sometimes, she tripped over nothing at all. And to top it off, she seemed to lack the basic instinct that allowed her to stop her fall. So, in that sense, every fall ended in a bruise or a scrape, along with torn or muddied clothes. And as a waitress, being a klutz was the worst possible attribute to have.

Sure, Sumia figured she could get any other occupation, but something about Gregor's Diner was just comfortable to her. Even when she tripped, messed up an order, or became so flustered that she was sure she would cry right then and there, Gregor would always swoop in and reassure that she was doing her best. She feared her next employer would not be so forgiving… And she felt guilty for every plate, drink, and food order she unintentionally destroyed when she tripped over herself.

So, using her textbooks, she often tried to practice her balance so she would _stop falling._ But a part of her, a small, tired voice, just told her to give up for the day and go back to class.

Simply put, she was tired. The sun had just risen over the horizon and she had gotten called on for a graveyard shift because someone else called off. Sure, Sumia could have refused, said no because her eight AM was the next morning, but again, a part of her simply _couldn't._

She hoped and prayed that at least the eight AM one got canceled or they did something simple that didn't require her utmost attention. She honestly needed a nap… That, or a good cup of coffee.

As that thought crossed her mind, she heard something from her left. Turning slightly, she barely saw who was coming when she suddenly felt someone run into her. Sumia stumbled back as whomever hit her grabbed onto her bag as she fell. The bag, not expecting the full weight of another person, unzipped, sending random pieces of papers, notebooks, pencils, and pens flying while her textbooks clattered to the ground.

Sumia groaned as she stared up at the sky. At least that one wasn't her fault, but it didn't make her feel any less terrible.

Regardless, however, Sumia was scrambling to pick up her things. As she looked up, she saw the person who ran into her was already standing. Honestly, Sumia couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman who had unintentionally yanked her to the ground, but they seemed to be scanning the ground for something.

The person hardly offered a gesture or a word of help, instead taking off running like they were before.

Sumia simply blinked at the odd encounter, but then felt a yawn coming on. Stifling it with her hand, she began absentmindedly shoving papers and such back into her bag. She'd have Cordelia reorganize it with her later, but she was in a hurry and had a class to get to.

Scrambling slightly, Sumia gathered everything together, scooping things into her bag until nothing was left.

Carefully, she looked around to make sure that nothing was left behind, and then continued on to her desperately-in-need-of-wash white car.

Stifling yet another yawn, Sumia rubbed her eyes for good measure, then started up the car, ready to start what would no doubt be a long day.

o.0.o.0.o

As Lissa ended up following Donnel, she couldn't help but look around the academy in awe. The buildings all looked so new and advanced, the flowers and lawns were cared for to perfection, and every surface seemed to glimmer with cleanliness. The students all seemed to hang out together in their own little cliques, and at the very center was a magnificent-looking clocktower, not unlike the one at Chrom's university.

"So, Donny," she turned to her guide and beamed. "How long have you been attending Iris Academy?"

"Er, uh…" Donnel nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "This is actually my first day as well."

"Wait, what?" Lissa exclaimed, eyes flying open wide. "So you don't know how to get to the square?"

"Sorry, Lissa." Donnel openly winced, bowing his head. "I tried to explain that to ya, but I also didn't wanna disappoint ya."

"Does that mean we're lost?!" Lissa exclaimed, looking around frantically. Truth be told, Donnel looked about as amazed as her when looking around the school, so it shouldn't have come as such a surprise, but still… "How am I gonna find Maribelle now?! Ooooooh, she's gonna be so worried and then she might contact Emm and then Frederick might find out about all of this and pull me out and I'll never get to come back-"

"C-Calm down, Lissa!" Donnel cut her rant off by giving her shoulders a small squeeze. When she met his gaze, he hurriedly dropped his hands into his pockets. "Listen, we'll find yer friend if we just ask for a bit of help. And even then, there's gotta be signs or something to an office where we can get directions, and you can always call 'er if worst comes to worst."

He was right. God, Donnel was right, and Lissa knew then and there she was overreacting. Slowly, she exhaled and steeled her nerves, and nodded to him once.

"Thanks, Donny." she said, looking around. "Surely someone around here knows Maribelle, so maybe if we ask around…"

"Lissa?"

Lissa couldn't help but flinch, turning to see who had recognized her. There, she saw a boy around fourteen years of age. He was short in stature, standing around five feet tall, with light brown hair combed down neatly with the exception of a single cowlick. He was wearing the same uniform as Donnel, though Lissa noticed that his sleeves were rolled up and his pants were a little baggy around the ankles, as if there wasn't a uniform that fit him quite properly yet.

"Ricken!" Lissa gasped, then yanked him to the side. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "My name is Alissa Juno and my nickname is Lissa. We're trying to keep the fact that I'm here on the down low."

With that, she stepped back, grinning like nothing was wrong.

"I didn't know you decided to come here!" Lissa smiled. "I thought that you were going to some boarding school or something."

"Well, I was supposed to, but something popped up and I ended up coming here." Ricken spoke simply.

"Well, it's great to see a familiar face!" Lissa clapped her hands, then looked between Donnel and Ricken. "Anyways, Ricken, this is Donny. Ch-Chris almost ran him over with his car, so I've been making sure he's okay. And guess what, he's new too! Donny, this is Ricken, a childhood friend of mine and Maribelle's. He's a freshman here, and like he said, he was supposed to go to some boarding school, but now he's here!"

"Pleased to meet ya." Donnel tipped his cap to him in acknowledgement, and Ricken raised an eyebrow slightly.

"You too." Ricken turned his attention to Lissa. "So are you trying to find Maribelle?"

"Yeah." Lissa sighed. "She said she was in the square, but neither Donny nor I know how to get there. Soooooo…" tapping her fingers together expectantly, she smiled. "Any idea how to get there?"

"Yeah, I know where the square is." Ricken grinned a small, arrogant little grin. "I made sure to memorize the map of the school before I got here. So if you'd follow me…"

Gesturing for them to follow, Lissa let out a sigh of relief.

"Come on, Donny. I want you to meet Maribelle."

"If yer sure 'bout that." Donnel shrugged, both of them tailing after Ricken.

o.0.o.0.o

"Lissa, my treasure! There you are!"

Donnel watched as a blond girl around the same height and age as Lissa threw her arms around her in a hug. Her hair was done up in large, almost elaborate curls, held in place at the back of her head with a bow the same color as the green blazer. There was a an obvious look of affection between the two friends.

"Good gracious, I was so worried when you told me Chris was driving you! I was certain you had died and that's why you weren't here… Where have you been?!"

"Honestly?" Lissa smiled bashfully. "I just got a little lost…"

Donnel slowly turned his gaze to Ricken, cocking his head. Ricken simply shrugged. _That's how Maribelle always is when it comes to Lissa,_ he mouthed.

"But you could have called!" Maribelle insisted. "My goodness gracious, I was sure you were in hospital because of your brothers atrocious driving…"

"I'd be more worried about Donny!" Lissa grinned, placing her hand on his arm. Again, Donnel felt that strange electric shock from her touch, but not as intense. Rather, like a strange static. "Chris almost hit him! Thankfully, though, Ricken found us and lead the way!"

"... Donny?" Maribelle echoed. Her mauve gaze hit him with such intensity that Donnel couldn't help, but find his shoes suddenly so very fascinating. Swallowing his nervousness down, he slowly lifted his gaze, and met Maribelle's gaze with a small grin.

"Nice to meet ya," he held out his hand in a customary handshake. "My name is Donnel Tinhead, but y'all can call me Donny. Pretty much everyone does."

"Oh." Maribelle ignored his hand, turning her head upwards so her nose with in the air. With her arms crossed, she spoke. "So _you_ must be the lucky plebian to in win Queen Emmeryn's scholarship."

Donnel didn't want to take it as an insult, as she seemed to be Lissa's best friend and he rather liked Lissa, but still… The way she spoke felt demeaning… And there was no way that the word 'plebian' was a compliment.

"... What's that supposed to mean…?" Lissa asked. She didn't sound repulsed by him being a plebian, but rather, confused at what Maribelle was trying to say.

"It means he's not like the rest of us. He's only in this school because of Queen Emmeryn's kindness." Maribelle elaborated, fixing him with a scathing look. "You shouldn't be associating with him, Lissa. It will do absolute _horrors_ to your reputation."

"Eh?" Lissa looked so repulsed by that statement that she visibly jerked back. "Who cares about that?!"

"It's just… how the social chain at this school works." Ricken explained, his voice much more gentle than Maribelle's. Lissa still looked confused, so Ricken pointed someone out. "See that girl over there, with the green hair?"

Lissa nodded, and Donnel lifted his gaze as well. There, he saw a short girl with surprisingly green hair in a ponytail. Honestly, she looked more like she was ten or eleven years old rather than a high schooler, but she was wearing the uniform, confirming her status as a student.

"That's Nowi. Even though she looks young, she's in the same class as me. She's the foster child of a restaurant owner in town, and both she and her single father work very hard to enroll her in the best schools. A lot of the same thing happened in the middle school we went to, and it's happening here too. She was picked on a lot in middle school…"

He trailed off, and as if to prove his point, a couple of older kids, younger kids trailing behind them, quite literally picked the bench Nowi was sitting on, and flipped it over, dumping her and her things off of it. As other people laughed as she examined her ripped stockings, a couple of girls sat on the bench she previously occupied. Almost immediately, she got up and began forming a retort for their actions, but one of the girls shoved her back to the ground again.

Given how small she was, it wasn't that hard to overpower her, but to her credit, she was resilient. She just kept popping up after getting pushed down again and again...

"... Basically, those who have more money are at the top, those who have less are at the bottom." Ricken gave Donnel an almost pitiful look. "And it won't take much to have you pinned, Donny. I could tell by your accent and voice in an instance."

"What?!" Lissa exclaimed loudly, catching a few looks from some other students. Maribelle quickly hushed her, and Lissa lowered her voice. "That's terrible!"

"Think of it like society, dear." Maribelle said simply, waving it off and turning her gaze away from Donnel. "That's just how everything works. It'd be best if you and this plebeian were to learn that quickly."

"But-!" Lissa looked desperate to prove her point, and at that point, Donnel cut her off.

"Nah, it's alright, Lissa." Donnel fiddled with his ball cap, trying to hide the fact that he was actually a little hurt by Maribelle and Ricken's words. "I reckoned somethin' like this would happen in such a big, fancy place. Thank ya for being nice to me, but ya don't really have to…"

He stepped back a little bit, and smiled slightly to reassure her.

"So, yeah." he nodded once. "I'll get outta yer hair."

With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the sea of students.

o.0.o.0.o

In truth, Chrom liked Miriel. She was a good friend of Emmeryn's and was very knowledgeable in literally everything. If Emmeryn ever had a question about anything, she almost always turned to Miriel first. One could even say that Miriel was the unofficial personal advisor to Emmeryn… The only reason that she _wasn't_ was because his sister didn't want to burden her longtime friend with such a stressful position.

So, Miriel took the next best thing when she graduated; a professor and chair on the science department, specializing in DNA sciences. Seemingly having knowledge that would label her as nothing less than a once-in-a-century genius, one would think that she would be a profoundly excellent professor.

But…

"Typically, DNA has twenty-four chromosomes. However, there are chromosome abnormalities, also known as a disorder, anomaly, aberration, or mutation. These are typically caused by a missing, extra, or irregular portion of chromosomal DNA. It can be from an atypical number of chromosomes or a structural abnormality in one or more chromosomes. Chromosome mutation was formerly used in a strict sense to mean a change in a chromosomal segment, involving more than one gene."

Miriel, as a friend, was a great person. She even wrote a letter of recommendation to get him into Shield of Flames University. She was responsible beyond belief, not only managing her own no doubt stressful life, but even tended to help manage Emmeryn's and his own. She was completely in on his and Lissa's situation, and on top of _all_ of that, was nothing short of a perfectionist.

There was a click on the button of Miriel's remote, and the slide on her powerpoint changed to the next slide. Like all the others, there were only words, not pictures or anything else.

"The term "karyotype" refers to the full set of chromosomes from an individual; this can be compared to a "normal" karyotype for the species via genetic testing. A chromosome anomaly may be detected or confirmed in this manner. Chromosome anomalies usually occur when there is an error in cell division following meiosis or mitosis."

And God, Chrom was doing his best. He was trying _so hard,_ out of respect for his sister and one of her best friends… But every single word coming out of Miriel's mouth, in her typical, monotonous, no-nonsense voice, made him want to fall asleep. Just. A little. More. Of course, it wasn't just out of disrespect for Miriel, oh, no. He needed to pass this science course as a required prerequisite for his business major and political science minor. He knew he needed to keep his grades up to a certain GPA in order to stay on the fencing team.

"There are many types of chromosome anomalies. They can be organized into two basic groups, numerical and structural anomalies."

He knew all of this. Of course he knew all of this. Yet with every word she said, he wanted to fall asleep. With Miriel's voice droning on in the background, Chrom's attention slowly moved to find something more interesting. Considering the fact that this was a classroom in a university, so there wasn't anything of interest to pick apart and distract himself.

Glancing at his partner and friend in this class, he saw him fast asleep. This was pretty typical for Vaike. The sports management major almost never stayed awake in _any_ class, though this was the only instance that Chrom couldn't blame him. After all, Miriel was just… very, very boring.

"That will be all for today," Miriel's words were followed by a sigh of relief from everyone who was still conscious. "We will review types of abnormalities and the causes they have as well as how they could possibly form. Class dismissed."

Most of the class seemed prepared for those words, and subsequently bolted out of the classroom, bags packed and all. Chrom ended lingering out of obligation towards making sure Vaike woke up. Miriel herself lingered near the desk, waiting for anyone who had a question… Not that anyone would really understand her answer. Chrom knew it was unintentional, but Miriel often spoke in a vocabulary that he was fairly certain straight-A english majors would have trouble keeping up. So in that sense, no one really felt like asking her questions, not unless they had a thesaurus at the ready.

"Vaike, hey." Chrom swung his book bag over his shoulder and shook his shoulder a couple of times. Vaike grumbled something, turning his head away from Chrom. Drumming his fingers on the desk, Chrom sighed. "Vaike, get up. Frederick's filling in for your football coach and wants you on the field in two minutes."

Vaike's eyes snapped open with a snort, the chair clattering to the ground as he shot to his feet.

"I'm awake!" he stood at attention, only to blink in confusion when his eyes settled on a vacant classroom, Miriel shooting him a disapproving gaze. Then, he slowly turned to Chrom, who couldn't suppress his grin.

"I think I'll record that so you can set it as your alarm." Chrom said.

"Heeeeey…" Vaike groaned. "What gives? Teach was in the middle of an awesome dream!"

"Well, if you wanna stay here longer than necessary, be my guest." Chrom nodded to Miriel, who was giving Vaike a stern look from "But I don't think our professor is very happy that you fell asleep in her class. Again."

"Shit…" Vaike murmured under his breath, hurriedly packing his things while Chrom was already strolling towards the door. Just as Vaike picked up the chair and hurried to the front...

"Vaike, a word." Miriel spoke, stopping him in his tracks. Vaike glanced at Chrom, and Chrom shook his head.

"You dug your own grave, man." Chrom said, backing towards the door.

"Vaike, I would recommend you cease your suspension of consciousness during the allotted time of my lecture, less your grade point average will suffer immensely."

Without skipping a beat, Mirial spoke, and Chrom could almost see the gears in Vaike's head going. But like those gears that got jammed, with each word beyond his vocabulary, they came halting to a stop and his expression mirrored that. He looked utterly dumbfounded.

"... You wanna repeat that?" Vaike asked, slowly turning. Miriel's left eyebrow slowly rose.

Chrom turned before Miriel could answer. He already knew that this conversation was going to take forever in a day… And he didn't particularly want to be a part of it.

"Sorry Vaike." he said, waving over his shoulder.

"Wait!" Vaike cried out. "Don't-"

The door shut between them, and though Chrom felt it might be a little cruel, well… He trusted Miriel to not torment Vaike to death.

He shot a hesitant look back at the door, but already heard Miriel sternly lecturing Vaike. Subsequently, Vaike was asking her to repeat herself, until, eventually, he heard the thud of a heavy book. For some reason, he had a very intense feeling that the book was a dictionary…

Deciding then and there to simply leave Vaike to his fate, Chrom turned on his heel with an air of finality about him. Moving forward through the hallways, he exited into the warm September air, not quite warm enough for shorts, but not cool enough for a jacket. Flowers were still in bloom about the campus, perfectly landscaped due to gardeners. All around him, students of various ages and majors were chatting and laughing.

Everything seemed so peaceful…

It was a short stroll to the courtyard, where his friends sat waiting. For the most part, they almost always met here when the weather permitted so, as it was the perfect cluster of tables that weren't too close together but not too far apart. The courtyard was paved with bricks, overlooking carefully planted flowers with trees casting a healthy amount of shade over them. And everyone was sitting about, as they usually were.

Stahl was sitting at the table, snack and drink in hand as he was overlooking a textbook. Most likely, he was studying something for his major, the difficult pharmacology degree. He was discussing something with Cordelia, a redhead who was studying to be a doctor. Next to Cordelia, and surprisingly, asleep, was Sumia. She was putting her love of animals to use, and planned to become a veterinarian. Finally, Sully, the resident boxing champ, sat on the table while resting her feet against the bench and propping her head on her fist. She was almost sergeant like and was working towards her physical trainer degree.

Sully's gaze, not unlike that of an eagle searching for its prey, finally fell on him.

"Captain Chris!" she hollered, waving her hand and standing on the bench. Upon his approach, Cordelia nudged Sumia awake. She groaned, blearily lifting her head. Chrom awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as a couple people stared, curious at Sully's shout.

"You do realize that you don't have to call me Captain, right, Sully?" Chrom asked, crossing his arms, with a humored grin. "I mean, it's a little odd considering you're one of the best boxers on campus and I'm the Captain of the fencing club…"

"But Chris!" Cordelia suddenly interjected. "You earned that title, you should be proud of it!"

"Yeah," Sumia yawned, turning her head to him, her eyes having evident dark circles under them. "Not every day a sophomore up and becomes captain of a club or team Chro-"

"Sumia!" Cordelia gave her best friend a semi-rough nudge, and Sumia gasped.

"Chris! Chris Juno! D-Definitely not someone of importance within our country!"

Sully ran her hand down her face in embarrassment, and Cordelia simply sighed. Stahl looked up from his book, glancing between Sumia and Chrom in a confused manner, as if he weren't listening… then went back to his snack.

"... Long night studying, Sumia?" Chrom asked empathetically. Sumia groaned into her arms.

"If only…" she whined.

"She picked up a graveyard shift at the diner again." Cordelia explained.

"I don't know why they always call me…" Sumia sighed into her arms. Sully let out a snort.

"You're a pushover Sumia." she spoke bluntly. "They know if they tell you a good sob story, you'll cover their shift for them."

Sumia didn't respond, and Chrom wondered if she fell asleep again. With no response, Sully turned back to their previous conversation.

"Anyways, I agree with Cordelia over there," Sully nodded to the redhead in question. "You earned the title fair and square, and did it without your title to boot!"

Much like how Lissa was known as Alissa Juno in the public eye, his sister came up with the name Chris Juno for him to go by in the university. Although Chrom did want to prove himself worthy of his achievements without his royal name attached, the whole ordeal was more of a security thing than nothing else. Of course, the university dean had to approve of this, but his five friends had to go through an even tougher trial of knowing who he really was: Frederick.

And even then, Chrom was certain the private tutor slash butler still didn't fully trust his friends.

"Sooo…" Stahl glanced around for a moment, then spoke. "Where's Vaike?"

"Miriel's lecturing him for his 'suspension of consciousness' during her class." Chrom shrugged. "This isn't the first time it's happen, and due to the _huge_ gap in intellect, I think they'll just talk in circles… But I don't know about this time."

"Why's that?" Sully asked. Chrom grinned at her.

"Because I'm fairly certain that Miriel pulled out a dictionary to be a translator."

With that, Sully let out a loud hoot of laughter while Cordelia and Stahl smiled to themselves. Chrom laughed with Sully. Leave it to Miriel to expect a dictionary to function as a better means of communication than… communicating with simpler words.

"Even still," Cordelia's brow furrowed slightly. "Is he failing her class?

"Shouldn't we… help him somehow?" Sumia lifted her head. "I mean, he _is_ here on scholarship, after all."

"But this is also Miriel we're talking about here." Stahl suddenly spoke. "She's not the type to let her students fail. Too much pride in her work, even if she sometimes doesn't understand that not everyone is a once in a century genius like she is."

"In other words," Sully shot Sumia a look. "Focus on yourself, for once, and don't coddle Vaike!"

o.0.o.0.o

Some time later, Vaike was sprinting up to them, practically collapsing onto the ground next to their table. By that time, the sun was shining brightly over the sky, highlighting just how sweaty he had become in his mad dash from Miriel. Apparently, he made his grand escape when Miriel left to get a thesaurus to further aid in their apparent communication issues. Sully was practically roaring with laughter at this, and Chrom forewarned Vaike that Miriel was not about to give up on him.

Chrom was fairly certain that no man has ever wailed in such a manner.

With that, Cordelia offered to help tutor him, and Sumia said she'd run back to her apartment to get some notes on a similar course she took. However, as she went running, she stumbled on the edge of the fountain, and tumbled straight into it, soaking her through and through.

Now, it was Vaike's turn to laugh while everyone else scrambled to help the overworked girl, Cordelia running back to her shared apartment to get Sumia a towel while Chrom and Sully pulled her out.

Chrom tried to reassure Sumia that not many people saw her tumble into the fountain, even though many, many people saw. While he and Stahl tried to comfort the now crying and embarrassed Sumia, Vaike continued moaning about his own troubles until Sully walloped him upside the head for his insensitivity and Cordelia came back with a towel.

Eventually, the whole ordeal came to a close with Cordelia telling Sumia she needed to go home and sleep. With the redhead escorting the brunette back home, Stahl opted to grab more food before his next class, and Vaike bolted, swearing up and down he saw Miriel. Chrom wasn't sure if he was lying or not, but he ran like he saw a ghost, so he assumed so.

That left him and Sully.

"So, most renowned prince," Sully spoke teasingly, in a way where everyone would think she was joking had they heard. "Tell me again why you enjoy this madhouse?"

"It's fun." Chrom shrugged. "Much more interesting than being homeschooled every day."

Sully snorted.

"I'm sure anything is more interesting than days after days with Frederick." Punctuating her sentence, she hopped off the bench. "I'm gonna go work on my swing at the gym. You up for dinner?"

"Probably not today." Chrom laughed. "It's Lissa's first day after all, gotta be home to hear all about it."

"Alright, then." Sully gave him a two fingered salute, with a grin. "See you around, Chris."

Chrom waved goodbye to her, smiling to himself. Sure, going to a school with other students was much more challenging, but still… It was a lot more fun, if not more entertaining, than being homeschooled.

o.0.o.0.o

"Cherche!"

Cherche already knew, the moment she stepped into Gregor's diner, to brace herself as Nowi latched her arms around her waist. The small fourteen-year-old was laughing happily, much like a child, and Cherche was fairly certain that, if she were a dog, Nowi's tail would be wagging.

"Hello, Nowi," Cherche gave the girl a brief pat on the head. "Did you just get off the bus, or are you in the dining room because you heard I was coming?"

"Got home just before you walked in!" Nowi pointed to the bright purple bookbag sitting next to the hostess stand.

"And how was your first day of high school?" Cherche asked, seeing the little lizard keychain that she had bought Nowi dangling from one of the zippers. Nowi's face darkened for a moment.

"... I'll make sure it's better this year." she whispered under her breath. "It's only the first day."

"Of course," Cherche suppressed the urge to frown, but instead smiled. "We can always just send you in with Minerva, if they get too mean, though."

Nowi laughed at that, and Cherche felt her smile grow. Cherche wasn't exactly sure of the relationship between Nowi and the owner of the diner, Gregor, but it seemed to come across as a very fatherly-daughterly relationship. Often times, Cherche would step in here for a quick bite to eat, or even to escape from Virion and his sometimes over dramatic tendencies. She saw Nowi on occasion, and the first thing that enraptured her about the girl was the lovely color of her hair.

Now see, people often told Cherche she had a strange aesthetic. She never understood this, however, as she thought her rottweiler was the most adorable thing in the world, and Nowi's hair, this grand shade of green, was beautiful.

So one day, about two years back, she told Nowi just that. And ever since then, Nowi sat herself down at her table, used her allowance to buy her a meal, and simple conversed. Shortly after, Nowi walked back and forth between the theatre and the diner, learning every detail about Cherche until, one day, she had received an invitation to Nowi's twelfth birthday party.

Of course, Cherche bought her a little gift and went, and Nowi was overjoyed. Ever since then, Nowi would find an excuse, any excuse, to latch onto her and see her.

"Anyways, look!" Nowi pointed to the hair clip holding up her ponytail, a purple dragon with bright green eyes. "I'm wearing the clip you got me! See?! See?!"

"Oh yes, I do see!" Cherche giggled. Nowi cheered, then latched onto her again.

"Nowi, leave pretty Cherche alone." a jovial voice laced with boisterous laughter spoke. "She must be hungry and on break if she is coming here!"

Gregor, though older, almost had the heart of a young man. If he wasn't known for his hardworking nature and his big, infectious grin, then he was definitely known for his ability to drink. Cherche had to admit, it was quite impressive. The red-haired man's tone and expression turned almost mockingly serious.

"Adult breaks very short. Not much time. Cherche might starve."

"For all you know, Gregor, I might be hiding from Virion again." Cherche couldn't help but joke back. "After all, a new show is coming along, and you know how he is when this happens."

"Prettyboy needs stiff drink, Gregor thinks." Gregor spoke bluntly. "To high strung, complaining about hair and such…"

Gregor gestured for her to follow, and Nowi skipped after them. However, once they sat down, Gregor shot Nowi a stern look.

"Wee one needs to go do homework." Gregor pointed to the stairway leading to the apartment overhead. "Show the pampered ones what elbow grease does!"

"Is this a date? Is that why you don't want me here?" Nowi sounded way too hopeful, so much so that it almost hurt Cherche's heart a little. But Gregor simply laughed his bellowing laugh, catching the attention of most of the waitresses lingering about, waiting for the afternoon to turn to evening so they could attend to dinner customers.

"If old Gregor could score dinner with pretty Cherche, he would certainly not take her to place he owns!" he laughed. "No, no, this business, wee one. Nothing but boring adult talk."

Nowi blinked for a moment, then shrugged, seemingly accepting it. With that, she skipped off to grab her backpack, then moved towards the stairs. Once she was out of earshot, Gregor shot Cherche a concerned look.

"Theatre okay…?" he asked slowly. Cherche sighed, rubbing her temple slightly as she felt a sudden weight on her shoulders.

"It's… having troubles." Cherche spoke kindly. "At first, it was doing really well, and Ella seemed to be running it well enough. But after the whole embezzlement thing, it just shot us down. Ella's trying to keep everything together, God knows she's trying, but still…"

Gregor's look was pure sympathy, and Cherche understood well. At this point, all of their jobs were on the line… But with this new play, it just might help them.

"Even still," she continued on. "Ella pulled some strings. God knows how she knows him, but she got Henry Crow to perform his newest play here, _Mass Murder at the Ballet."_

"Oi…" Gregor seemed to shudder. "Sounds spooky…"

"Yes, Henry is apparently very well known for his plays and effects. Everyone who's anyone knows who he is, and this town…"

"This town chalk full of anyone's." Gregor laughed. Pounding his chest, Gregor grinned. "Gregor help Ella and Cherche anyway he can! Let him use wizened years of experience in business!"

"Thank you, Gregor." Cherche smiled. "In fact, I'm actually here to book an event space. Like I said, it's a whole new play and Ella and Henry are deciding on the roles as we speak… We want to frequent our most loved business neighbor, of course."

"Never would Gregor deny Cherche!" Gregor laughed. "Anytime! I even give friendly discount!"

"Now how on earth will that ever benefit you?" Cherche was certain he was joking, but Gregor insisted.

"Gregor will have pretty people frequenting business! Plus," Gregor's voice dropped to a softer note. "Gregor do favor for Ella. Ella too young to fall apart, so Gregor will assist all he can. Keep on the hush-hush, yes?"

Cherche pursed her lips for a moment. Ella was not as unintelligent or flighty as she often appeared to be. She would pick up on the discount quickly, but not say anything. Remain oblivious…

"I won't tell Ella, just don't expect her to not pick up on it sooner or later."

Gregor simply laughed, shaking his head as he stood.

"Then all settled! When will party be? Gregor will have Gaius make big cake," he held out his arms for emphasis. "In honor of theatre!"

"Hey, old man!"

Someone rang the bell by the service window, catching most of the attention in the diner. There, Cherche saw the ginger-haired cook, Gaius, with a bandana wrapped around his forehead. He was giving Gregor a serious glare.

"My service's ain't free!" he snapped. "If you're gonna use me to commission some monstrous cake, you better be prepared to sweeten the deal!"

Gregor simply laughed.

"Gregor promise Gaius will be reimbursed!" with that, Gregor turned back to Cherche. "Gregor will do all he can to help Ella with theatre. So don't worry, yes?"

Before Cherche could get a word in, the bell chimed over the door, signaling customers. The waitress's all stood at attention, as if knowing what was going to happen.

"Dinner rush begins soon." Gregor spoke simply. "But Gregor has one frequent customer who puts the entire rush to shame."

"Good afternoon, Gregor!"

o.0.o.0.o

After ensuring that Lissa got home safely, Frederick made sure to slip into the place that Chrom apparently frequented with his friends. Of course, Frederick used the term 'friends' loosely. Though Chrom apparently trusted them, he himself simply couldn't bring himself to. Cordelia was nothing short of brilliant and respectful, from what Frederick could understand and find out about her while Stahl and Vaike struck him as nothing more than simple folk.

Cordelia was an esteemed and honored student who won countless awards in multiple fields. Vaike was a sports star from his hometown. Stahl was the son and brother of two pharmacists, but not nearly as extraordinary as the other two. But even if they appeared to be from semi-humble backgrounds, sometimes simple people would take advantage of anyone who was higher up. Cordelia could manipulate Chrom. Vaike could overpower him. And Stahl… Well, he wasn't exactly sure what Stahl could do to take advantage of Chrom, but Frederick was sure that he would.

Right now, Stahl was talking to the man who owned the restaurant, Gregor, as the boisterous man often spoke in third person. Chrom offered to help pay for Vaike who apparently 'forgot his wallet'. How many times did Vaike conveniently 'forget his wallet' in the presence of a prince?

The only two he was semi-okay with were Sumia and Sully. Both were also from well off and politically influential families, and had been friends with Chrom since they were all children. But just because the children were okay, did not mean the parents weren't trying to get cosy with the royal family.

And so, Frederick's been sitting in this little diner since about noon, remaining inconspicuous as Sumia repeatedly walked over and refilled his coffee cup, over and over again. He colored himself lucky that Sumia was his waitress. Though she looked like she needed a cup of coffee herself, he knew if he had gotten Cordelia or any of the other waitresses, they'd be questioning him at this point. But Sumia just smiled, came over to his table every once in a while and asked him if he needed anything or needed a refill.

He listened in on Chrom's conversation. Thankfully, Vaike and Stahl were calling him by his assumed name, Chris. Cordelia, who was serving them, also greeted him as Chris. So at least they kept true to their promise of calling him that, at least.

Vaike was talking loudly about his sports. Nowi brightly introduced herself to all the tables, almost akin to a mascot, and was happily talking to Stahl. Cordelia remained aloof and professional to the male customers who tried to flirt with her, and Sumia was carefully carrying trays of food as more of the mid-afternoon college and afternoon high school crowd began to trickle in. Gregor was by the door, greeting most everyone by name, and if he didn't know someone, he introduced himself and learned their names. From the window, cooks were bustling in the kitchen and the lineup cook, Gaius, was slamming the bell and yelling for an order pickup.

From his observations, everything appeared normal. Nothing seemed to pose a danger to Chrom and his friends seemed… decent.

For a moment, Frederick's gaze flicked away from the prince as he heard Chrom's table number being yelled out. Expertly, Cordelia easily carried the plates to the table with pristine balance. As he watched the redhead carefully, should she try to poison or tamper with Chrom's food, his gaze caught Sumia.

The brunette waitress was carefully carrying a tray full of plates towards a table with six people in it. While other waitresses moved with confidence and fluidity, she moved slowly, carefully putting one foot in front of the other as she approached the table. Though she obviously looked worried, biting her lip in anxiety, she was doing fairly well.

However, as she was about in the middle of the restaurant, Frederick watched as another waitress roughly shoved Sumia's shoulder. She stumbled back, her feet catching on the tray holder.

What happened next could simply be described as a series of unfortunate events.

Sumia's feet caught and as she fell, the tray went flying up while the corner of the holder opened and caught her shirt, completely tearing it. As Sumia tried to detangle herself from the holder, the food flipped in the air, plates, baskets, and food crashing over the poor girl. She barely protected her head with her arms as the porcelain plates crashed over her. Food completely stained her shirt and smeared on her face. A burger patty slowly slid down her hair, staining the strands with ketchup and mustard.

Sumia slowly blinked, as if she had simply come to accept the chain of events. Then…

"Oh, my god." the waitress who pretty much shoved her down said loudly. She turned to the kitchen window, breaking the silence. "Hey, I need you to refire that order for table ten, on the fly! Sumia fell. _Again."_

Her last word was tinged with cruel laughter, and soon, some of the other patrons were laughing at the girl's misfortune as well. Frederick could see Stahl's lips parted in shock while Vaike had a temple throbbing. Chrom looked absolutely terrified at what happened to his friend.

Sumia scrambled to stand up, only to slip on an additional burger patty, falling flat on her face. Most everyone just ended up laughing harder. Again, Sumia got to her feet, running out the door in tears.

"Oi, Sumia!" Gregor tried to stop the girl as she ran out the front door, but was caught up with the table that Sumia intended to serve, complaining up a store. As he dealt with the table, Frederick stood and followed Sumia out the door.

It wasn't hard to find her, as she left a visible trail of food items and ketchup drippings. In an ally on the side of the building, he found her curled into a ball, crying into her knees.

"Sumia," he spoke her name simply, removing the sunglasses that he wore as a means to hide his identity from Chrom. "Are you hurt?"

She flinched, lifting her head to look at him. Then, her face paled.

"Frederick!" she exclaimed. Then, she buried her face in her hands. "Oh, on top of screwing up in front of Chrom and Cordelia and Stahl and Vaike, I had to screw up in front of you too! I'm hopeless, positively hopeless!"

"Sumia," he repeated himself to the distressed girl. "You had plates fall on top of you as well as various foods. Do you have any food allergies? Are you hurt in any way?"

"N-No." Sumia shook her head once. "Just embarrassed, and so, so tired. Cordelia had to drive me to my shift today because I covered a graveyard shift last night and I just..."

She trailed off in embarrassment.

"I'll drive you home, then." Frederick offered his hand to her. "You should not be working if you are exhausted, and you can't be expected to work with a torn shirt and covered in food."

Sumia averted her gaze for a moment. Then, holding her shirt closed, she reached up to take his hand, when…

"Hey!"

Frederick was surprised by the brute strength that pinned him to the wall by the collar of his coat. The glasses in his hands clattered to the ground as his hands wrapped around Gregor's. For an old man, he could definitely hold his own in a fight with this strength, but even still…

"Gregor knows not what you plan to do with Sumia, but Gregor won't watch strange man manipulate Gregor's valued employees!"

"Gregor, please stop!" Sumia suddenly begged, squeezing herself between them and gently pushing Gregor back. Though she was significantly shorter than the two men, Sumia bravely acted as a shield for Frederick. "This is a family friend of mine, Frederick! He… He was going to take me home…"

"Oh? Oooooooh!" Gregor suddenly grinned. Sumia turned, giving Frederick a reassured smile. "Sorry for misunderstanding, sir! Gregor meant no harm! But see," he patted Sumia on the shoulder. "Sumia is good, trusting girl. Gregor doesn't want Sumia taken advantage of."

Frederick couldn't help but narrow his gaze at Gregor. He couldn't possibly be unaware of the blatant hazing between waitresses in his restaurant… Could he?

"Gregor," Frederick spoke, intent on bring the situation to his attention, when Sumia suddenly cut in.

"Are you sure that you want me to go? I need to finish the rest of my shift…"

"Go rest." Gregor ordered. "Gregor writes Sumia's paycheck, he knows the hours she works. You cover many shifts. Covered graveyard shift last night. Had very little sleep. So let family friend take you home, clean up, and sleep. Have Cordelia come by later to check up on you, yes?"

"Y-Yes, sir." Sumia nodded meekly, and Gregor grinned.

"Gregor see you soon, Sumia." he gave a stern look to Frederick. "Take care of Sumia, yes?"

"... Yes." Frederick nodded once, deciding he would not question Sumia's choice to hide the hazing from her employer. Gregor apologized again to him, then turned back to go inside his restaurant.

With that, Frederick turned to Sumia and shrugged off his coat.

"Here." he held it out to her. "As I said, it would hardly do for you to be running around covered in food and in a torn shirt."

"Thank you, Frederick." Sumia said after a moment, reaching out to take the jacket.

As she did, however, their fingers brushed, and Frederick felt a jolt of static jump through his arm. Sumia must have felt it too, as she yelped, dropping the garment.

"Sorry!" she blurted out, stooping down to pick it up. "Sorry, I shocked you, I guess…"

"It's nothing to apologize for. It was an accident." Frederick said simply, flexing his fingers from the strange shock. That certainly wasn't a normal static electric shock. After all, he was victim to many static shock pranks when Chrom and Lissa were significantly younger, and this was quite different…

But with no other reasonable explanation, he simply accepted Sumia's apology and they began to move towards his car.

o.0.o.0.o

Lon'qu strode through the halls of the hospital, dressed in a casual manner for a police officer in training. Though it was casual, he was still respectable, and was flashing his badge to any curious nurse or doctor who shot him a questioning look.

Honestly, he was surprised to be in the Nagi Valley Hospital so soon, especially in this secluded area. Just like how the ICU was for those who needed intensive care, the WPU stood for Witness Protection Unit. Whomever Flavia and Basilio were investigating, they were involved in or witnessed crimes in Ylisse.

Therein was his worry. He was still in the police academy, and while Basilio and Flavia were helping him through the academy as well as paying for his apartment, they also insisted on him joining this investigation. If not for experience that no other recruit would get, but to return the favor for taking him in and helping him out.

As he walked to the more secluded area of the hospital, he saw his boss and his trainer, Basilio, standing alone outside of the door, still in uniform and drinking from a foam cup, supposedly coffee provided by the hospital. The eye-patch wearing police captain was part of the gang-related crimes unit. Immediately, Lon'qu assumed this woman was either involved in or targeted by gangs. As Lon'qu approached, Basilio drained the last of his cup and tossed it in a nearby trash can.

"So here's the deal, Lon'qu. This woman was found on the side of the street by a couple of kids who were trying to sneak out. They found her at about ten." Basilio said, looking in through the glass window separating them from the victim. Lon'qu couldn't help but sigh. It was almost two in the morning… While he did care about his job and any opportunity he could get, he didn't understand why this couldn't simply wait another three hours, when his alarm went off at five. "Pretty badly beaten up, and according to witness reports, she crawled out in the middle of the road and they had to swerve to avoid hitting her. Apparently, she left a trail of blood."

"Care to explain why you called me out at two in the morning, then? The victim should be resting." Lon'qu sighed, rubbing his temple. Basilio chuckled, smacking him on the back.

"If you're gonna be at the top, expect two AM calls, Lon'qu." Basilio tugged at the shoulder of his T-shirt. "Since you're a recruit, I'll let your casual attire slide, but next time, come in uniform or in a suit. You gotta look the part if you're gonna be a top investigator."

Lon'qu simply nodded in acknowledgement, tacking a mental note of Basilio's advice in the back of his head.

"Anyways, I called you out because the victim woke up around midnight, and is starting to come out of the pain meds. We got an anonymous call from one of the nurses, talking about strange tattoos on her face, and as you can see…" Basilio trailed off, nodding to the window.

There, Lon'qu saw Flavia, her blonde hair tied back in a tight ponytail, talking to a woman in a hospital gown. The unknown woman had long, wavy dark brown hair and tanned skin. Her red eyes stared straight ahead, but seemed focused. Her lips were tightly shut, and she wasn't saying a word. He couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the woman's facial markings.

There was a total of eight simple, black lines across her face, four on her forehead and four on her cheeks. Typically, facial tattoos are a sign of gang markings…

"She refuses to say a word to anyone, not even her name." Basilio spoke simply. "The doc in there is probably the only thing keeping Flavia from turning this into a full on interrogation."

"Let's hope that's not what this turns into, once she leaves." Lon'qu said, identifying the blond haired woman who was caring for the victim. As soon as he spoke, the doctor left, coming out and flipping through a clipboard of what he assumed was the woman's current medical records. Her brow was furrowed in worry, perhaps even awestruck at what she was reading.

"Excuse me, miss." Basilio approached her flashing his police badge. "I'm Basilio, captain of the gang-related violence unit. This is my protegee, Lon'qu."

"Good morning, officer." she held out her hand with a smile. "First and foremost, I am Dr. Libra Scales and I am actually a man."

That caught both of them off guard. She… He spoke without hesitation still smiling, meaning this mistake was made many times, and Libra was used to this correction.

"So what's going on?" Basilio nodded to the woman in the room. "She's gonna live, right?"

"To be honest, it's truly miraculous she even survived." Libra flipped through his clipboard again. "There were grazed wounds from the bullets, in which she ran at that point. However, I'm guessing whoever attacked her chased her down and continued to stab her approximately five times, mostly in in her limbs. I'm thinking she got away at this point, adrenaline pushing her forward until she collapsed, was found again, and slashed an additional twenty to thirty times."

"... Slashing isn't exactly a method to kill." Lon'qu said slowly. "So the attacker either thought she'd bleed out, or was doing this to torture her."

"Right." Basilio rubbed his temple. "And would it be too far-fetched to think the stab wounds to the arms and legs were to incapacitate her and make it easier to kill her?"

"They weren't fatal injuries near arteries or veins that would allow her to completely bleed out, though…"

"So someone was planning to prolong her death, then possibly assumed her dead." Lon'qu spoke.

"But you said there were lacerations from bullet wounds and the stabbing occurred after that, then the slashes." Basilio summarized, looking Libra in the eye. "So do you suppose that it's because she was good at evading her pursuers or they let her escape in some sick game of cat and mouse?"

"Honestly?" Libra shook his head. "I couldn't begin to tell you the circumstances of her injuries, and she won't say a word to anyone."

"Could it be a language barrier?" Basilio asked.

"No," Flavia suddenly cut into the conversation, opening and closing the door behind her. She looked slightly frustrated, but put together. "The witnesses who found her said she was speaking incoherently in English, asking over and over about some sort of flash drive. And I'm certain she can understand me, she just refuses to talk."

"With all due respect, Officer Platt, she may be traumatized." Libra spoke as gently as possible. "She has just gone through a terrifying experience, so she may not be open to talk. That being said, I already called our twenty-four-seven on-call trauma therapist. Perhaps after she speaks to her, she'll be a little more open to speaking to other people. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Libra walked away from them, possibly to file away the papers concerning the unknown woman in the room.

"Lon'qu." Basilio addressed him with a serious grunt. "This woman is going to be going into the witness protection program, but I have a bad feeling about all of this… So instead of sending her to some shelter, she's going to be rooming with you until we understand her connections fully."

Lon'qu could feel a shiver shoot down his spine, but swallowed his feelings. He knew, as a cop in training, he was going to have to spend time with and interview women. It was inevitable. But he never expected to have to share his apartment with a woman, let alone a possibly traumatized one. He was not exactly… well versed in expressing his feelings, so he had no clue what he was going to do when that trauma became an emotional breakdown… And the fact that a woman was going to be in his apartment didn't change the anxiety bubbling up in his stomach.

"Looks like it's time for Lon'qu to finally converse with a woman other than myself. I'm sure this whole arrangement will work out nicely. " Flavia teased with a wink. Despite the early hour and the severity of the situation, she was pulling a Basilio and trying to make light of the situation. Basilio himself let out a hearty laugh, and Lon'qu averted his gaze uncomfortably.

He so wished he had Flavia's confidence, but he has a real, genuine, fear and discomfort of women, but at this point, it was almost something akin to a joke between himself and the two adults beside him.

Slowly, he lifted his gaze to the woman in the hospital room, surprised to find their gazes locked. She was… staring at him. He completely froze, inhaling sharply. He found himself unable to turn away, despite the fact that every instinct in his body screaming at him to do so. There was something in that woman's gaze that made him want to ignore his instincts and possibly…

He blinked, shaking his head and breaking out of the odd revere. Most of the time when he so much as locked eyes with someone of the opposite sex, he quickly averted his gaze and made sure there was a definite amount of space between them. But what happened then was strange and unsettling.

Settling his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Lon'qu made a silent vow that he would avoid the woman's gaze so that he wouldn't have to experience those strange feelings again. Just as the thought crossed his mind…

" _Dr. Libra Scales,"_ the receptionist announced over the intercom. " _Please report to the front desk. Dr. Tharja Grimm has arrived upon your request. Thank you!"_

O.0.o.0.o

 **Hello again! I don't have much to say this time, but I do want to thank everyone who has read our humble story so far! It means a lot to Amy and I just to know you guys are checking our story out, we're having a lot of fun so far, so we hope you guys are too!**

 **Thanks to Amy (Here, here, my friend!) for reviewing and Weebologist and The Great Fantaman for being our first followers!**

 **Uh, I can't honestly think of anything else, so I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Please leave a review to let us know what you think, and we'll be back as soon as we can! Bye bye!**


	3. Chapter 3:Lotus

o.0.o.0.o

Tharja Grimm's heels clicked on the pristine tile floors of the hospital with little purpose. If it weren't five in the morning, and the halls were bustling with nurses, doctors, families, and patients, she was fairly certain they would part to allow her to pass.

Yes… she had that effect on people, but she was fairly certain that it wasn't out of respect. Even though she tended to avoid social interaction unless it was necessary, preferring to sink into the shadows and shuffle along... Most people typically feared her, but she didn't blame them.

So far, it had been a week since she was called in to deal with a patient in the Witness Protection Unit. The doctor feared trauma after the injuries she endured, the cops feared she was tortured then left for dead… After reading the medical reports, she didn't blame the doctor's decision for calling her in. Her attacker was maliciously ruthless, and if this woman was anything _but_ traumatized… Well then, that'd give her a mind she'd truly like to pick apart.

Honestly, being called in at three AM didn't much bother Tharja. Trauma was prevalent and always happening, so being a trauma therapist often required her to be everywhere at once… Well, that and she didn't exactly sleep much at night.

But she had… run into an obstacle of sorts, outside of the fact that this patient simply refused to talk. No, it wasn't her stubborn patient that was the problem, but rather, the doctor she was sharing her with.

Doctor Libra Scales now proved a rather difficult problem. Not that he was overbearing or pretentious, but rather…

Well, simply put, Tharja had a gift. Ever since she was a girl, she had the ability to 'see' things other people couldn't. No, she wasn't a psychic who sold her abilities for a cheap buck, and she couldn't see or communicate with ghosts. But… she was omniscient, in a way. Her abilities allowed her to sense _people,_ as well as their emotions. Of course, years of learning to control the ability allowed her to suppress it so she wasn't constantly bombarded with every trivial emotion every person sensed.

Now she had such undeniable control, she only 'sees' things, specifically their past, when she has skin to skin contact with someone. But even when she had skin to skin contact with another, she could control her reaction.

Truly, a useful but secret skill that was unique to her and is exactly why she was so good at what she does. She could only imagine the media circus that would inevitably happen if it got out that she was a psychic psychologist, God help her.

But now, she had a new problem. She had encountered something she hadn't encountered before. That doctor, Libra, had overwhelmed her.

Out of common courtesy, she shook the doctor's hand. She may not enjoy social interaction, but she knew when and how to be polite. When she did, however, his past had completely assaulted her mind. Overwhelmed was an understatement, as every joint and limb in her body completely locked, and she was certain she almost broke his hand with how tight she had gripped it. Lighting shot up her arm and exploded in her head, and though she was in no way weak, she was certain she almost screamed.

She only snapped out of it when Libra used his other hand to shake her shoulder. Quickly, she dropped her hand and backed away from him. He spoke of how she reacted, how she stiffened, how she began to shake. He was worried that she was seizure prone and began to pepper her with questions about getting a checkup. She didn't try to correct him, trying to explain what just happened would make him think she was crazy herself, maybe even blocking access from the patient.

So now she was apparently seizure prone, and Libra, the kind hearted fool, was still trying to pepper her with questions about her 'condition'.

Thankfully, she didn't have to work terribly hard to avoid him, as their shifts didn't line up exactly. Plus, if she saw him, he was usually surrounded by other doctors and nurses, discussing this and that with them.

Now her patient, on the other hand, was going to be a whole other load of trouble. It has been a week since she was admitted, and thanks to the hospital's excellent staff- because of course they'd take all the credit- she was now cleared of her _physical_ injuries. The police wanted to have her discharged as soon as possible.

But because this woman has been playing mute- and Tharja _knew_ she was playing because she's worked with those traumatized into muteness before- she still hasn't been cleared mentally. On top of that, she refused to have any physical contact with Tharja, not even to shake her hand, so Tharja couldn't assess her mentally that way. So again, like it has been for the past three days, Tharja's job was to try to get this woman to _talk_ so she could be discharged and placed into the Witness Protection Program.

Tharja reached the room in question easily, though she offered a knock before she strode in. Upon hearing this, the woman turned her head and stared at her stoically. Another reason she knew she was playing mute; were she deaf, she wouldn't have heard the knock, and thus wouldn't have responded.

She knew what was going to happen if this woman didn't start talking soon. They would transfer her to a mental hospital, and Tharja wouldn't be able to get near her then… After all, the psychologists there would have no need for an on call trauma therapist when they had a plethora of 'talented' individuals.

"It's been a week." Tharja stated bluntly, walking in and shut the door for privacy. "Are you going to say anything, or will I have a better conversation with the wall?"

No response. The woman was eyeing her out of the corner of her eye, taking in all of her features, her stance. Tharja had a feeling that she was anticipating what was going to happen next. At this point Tharja had used everything but incentive… And threats.

"Listen." she crossed her arms. "The only reason you're still here is because you're not talking. I know you're just stubbornly refusing to do so, as well. If you're not going to talk, then I have no problem with writing you off to be placed in the Mila Mental Institution. There, they'll keep trying different medications on you until you're acting normally."

The woman slowly lifted her gaze, staring at Tharja intensely. Tharja refused to break her gaze.

"So, may I ask again, for the seventh time this week, what is your name?"

The stare off continued for a minute, perhaps two, but Tharja refused to back down. She could tell that the woman was contemplating what to do, now assured that Tharja was deadly serious. Then the woman broke her gaze with a sigh.

"My name is Panne." she spoke as stoically as she looked. "I do not recall anything else, so don't even bother to ask."

Tharja allowed a smirk to form as she jotted the piece of information onto her clipboard. She began to question Panne further, not really buying her amnesia excuse, but Panne simply answered all her questions with 'I do not recall' or 'I do not remember'. Even still, her mental state seemed good enough.

As she was in the middle of questioning her, there was a knock at the door. Tharja flinched, sensing who was behind the door already. She glanced at Panne, but Panne didn't respond in the slightest, staring stoically ahead. She was certain that Panne wouldn't mind in the slightest if she didn't answer it, but…

"Oh! Dr, Grimm," Tharja couldn't suppress the sigh as Libra opened the door. "I didn't know you were here. I was doing my rounds when I noticed this door was closed… Typically we try not to shut the doors during the day, simply in case there is an emergency and the doctors need to rush in. Sometimes they're holding a lot of equipment and as you can probably guess, it's a struggle to open the door then."

"Yeah, well, as a psychologist, I need to secure the privacy of my patients." Tharja stood, quickly gathering her things.

"Speaking of patients," He walked into the room, glancing at Panne. "How is ours today?"

"Fine. She spoke, her name is Panne, she's ready to be discharged." she quickly brushed past the blond doctor. He shot her an odd look. "Excuse me. I have discharge papers to sign off on."

o.0.o.0.o

When Olivia got her mail on the way out of her apartment this morning, she wanted to go back up to bed, curl up, and cry.

Her rent was going up. Going up so much that simple backup and understudy jobs wouldn't cut it anymore. And it wasn't as if working extra hours as a janitor at the Iris Academy was helping her much… If she wanted any hope of paying it off, she was going to need a good role in this production. All so she could live in her lonely, cold, questionably secure, gray, and cramped apartment.

The idea of taking Virion's offer of living with him was so tempting now. The extravagant man was born with a silver spoon in his mouth… And even though he was flourishing as a popular actor, his parents took care of most all of his expenses, so any money he made would be used for his own pleasantries…

Unlike her own parents. God forbid, they didn't even know that she had rented out an apartment. They thought that she was living in that solitary dorm for the academically elite…

But there was no use in dwelling on it now. She'd just have to hope that she would get a good part in this now renown director's play, and if push came to shove, she could take Virion up on his offer.

With the notice and bills weighing heavy in her bag, Olivia rounded the corner to the theatre, only to see it flooded with actors and actresses. They all crowded around the ticket booth, trying to see who had gotten which part. Not willing to look at the list through the crowd, Olivia instead began to scan the crowd for Virion to ask about rooming with him. Strangely, she couldn't even spot the extravagantly dressed, blue-haired actor.

Lingering at the edge of the crowd, she knew she couldn't just gently push her way to the front. She'd get trampled…

"Hi there!"

Olivia gasped as someone cheerfully tapped her shoulder. Turning to look at who was speaking to her, she saw a redheaded woman with her hair tied tight in a ponytail. She was smiling cheerfully, holding a clipboard and a folder, a pencil tucked neatly behind her ear. In every sense of the word, she was dressed like a woman on a business mission.

Vigorously, she began to shake Olivia's hand.

"My name is Anna Kaufman, and I'm the current marketing director of Feroxi Theatre! Now then, are you a college student? I'm sure you're curious about what's going on here and why all these people are gathered about-"

"U-Um, actually… I-I auditioned for the play here…" Olivia interrupted meekly. "I wanted to see the results…"

"Oh?" Anna tapped her finger to her chin, then snapped her fingers. "But you're still a student, right? Looking to make some extra cash?"

"N-No." Olivia answered. "I'm not a college student. Just an actress s-searching for w-work."

"Oh." Anna sounded a little disappointed, but shrugged. "Aw, well. Say, do you know if there's any popular eateries around here that might cater to college students."

Olivia blinked, then glanced over her shoulder.

"W-Well, the diner across the s-street seems pretty popular."

"Great thanks!" Anna turned on her heel to walk away, paused, then turned back. "Oh, and invite your family and your friends! Spread the word, we appreciate the advertising!"

Then, she began to happily walk across the street. Olivia couldn't help but have her eyes be drawn to the phone in her back pocket, a plush bear charm dangling from it. Of all things to sully such a proper, business-woman appearance…

"Isn't she a strange one, crazy lady?"

Again, Olivia's heart leapt to her throat as she whirled in the other direction. There, she saw the white-haired stagehand from a week ago, the one who helped out with her audition. And just like a week ago, he was grinning, also watching Anna go.

"But with all due honesty, she's not as crazy as you!" he grinned happily, turning to her. "Glad to see you again! How's everything?"

"My name is Olivia and I'm n-not crazy." Olivia tried to speak firmly, but stuttered nonetheless. He blinked for a moment, cocked his head, smile never faltering… Then spoke.

"I still think you're pretty crazy, crazy lady." he said simply. At that, she could suppress the sigh. What, exactly, had given him the impression that she was crazy? She knew she shouldn't really care, since he seemed to be nothing more than a stagehand, but she was frantically reviewing everything she had done in his presence the week prior.

"Um, shouldn't you be inside?" Olivia suggested, hoping he'd go back inside. "Helping with sets or s-something?"

"Huh?" he blinked owlishly at her again. "Now why on earth would I do that? I've been looking for you! Come with me! Come on!"

"W-Wait…!" Olivia exclaimed as he snatched her wrist, yanking her forward and down the alley he had emerged from. She tried shaking her hand free from his, feeling something jolt up her arm, but his grip just tightened as they reached a side door to the theatre. He paused as his hand reached the doorknob, staring down at his hand around her wrist musingly.

He only seemed to snap out of it when she meekly tried to tug her wrist free again. He let out a cackle-like laugh, shaking his head.

"Sorry, sorry. I actually really wanna show you something! You don't mind, do you?"

"B-But I n-need to see what I'm doing in the p-play." Olivia exclaimed, looking back down the alley.

"You've got time!" he insisted, opening the door and dragging her through the threshold. "You're not going to push through that crowd anytime soon. Come on!"

"U-Um…" Olivia stumbled over her words as he dragged her past some other stagehands already busily setting up sets. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she saw a completely blank, white wall, and they were using brushes to splatter what looked like blood across it.

"Oh, you noticed the blood substitute?" he commented, pausing to shoot a glance at the set preparation as well.

"... I-It's a substitute?" Olivia whispered, watching as the red dribbled down the wall in small rivlets.

"Oh, yeah. Honestly, I think that it would look cooler with real blood, but that poses a health hazard and all that stuff." he waved his hand indifferently through the air. "So I perfected the recipe to make the blood look as realistic as possible. Right now, they're testing it out to make sure the consistency is right."

With that note, he continued pulling her farther back until they hit a narrow hallway. Olivia hesitated at the end, going over what he said. So he must work directly for Henry Crow if he 'perfected' the fake blood… But on the flipside, he wanted to use… use _real_ blood.

Apparently, she hesitated long enough to catch his attention, as he turned back.

"Come on," he gestured for her to follow "The director's and owner's offices are down here."

Swallowing the lump of nervousness, Olivia followed after the strange young man, the sounds of stage hands becoming more and more distant. Finally, they came upon a door with a dry erase marker board on it, Henry Crow written in neat cursive. Without even knocking, he opened the door and strode inside.

"W-Wait…!" Olivia hesitated at the door, finally pulling her wrist free. "Sh-Should we really come in here without Mr. Crows' permission?"

"Oh, it's fine." the young man again waved his hand dismissively. She lingered near the door as the young man crossed the room, whistling a happy tune. Without a care, he opened one of the drawers in the desk, pulling out a pack of paper.

"H-Hold on!" Olivia exclaimed, stepping into the room. "I-I can't-"

"It's nothing~." he sang out, passing a packet to her. "Read this for me."

"What?" Olivia shook her head, eyes flying wide as her hands scrambled with the packet. "N-No!"

"Come on, _pleeeeeeeeeeeease?"_

"Y-You don't understand, I can't rifle through M-Mr. Crows' p-p-personal things!" Olivia exclaimed, backing away. "I-I-I-I-"

"I'm telling you-"

" _I can't afford to lose this job!"_

Her shout echoed in the small office and she stumbled back at her own volume. The young man blinked at her in surprise, and she averted her gaze.

"I-I'm sorry…" she whispered under her breath. "I-I-I…"

"I've got some questions for ya, see."

Olivia simply opened her mouth at the 1920's gangster accent that came out of his mouth. It was so over exaggerated that Olivia was honestly taken aback. He simply smiled, looking up from the packet and turning it to her, pointing to a line on the page. Olivia glanced down at the packet in her hands, glancing back at the page number, and flipping to it in a frenzy.

Glancing over the names in the corresponding line he was pointing to, she saw Detective Brian Kitt. So this young man was trying to act out the script…? She felt like laughing in spite of it all. He wasn't even saying the line right.

"Okay." Olivia nodded her head according to the script, meeting the young man's gaze. "I'd be happy to be any help to the investigation. I want to know… I _must_ know who killed Lea."

"Well, ya see, we need yer alibi to place where ya were, see," he continued, still speaking in that horribly off accent. "Then we're gonna make sure it checks out, and if it doesn't, then you'll have to come in for more questioning, see."

"Of course, anything that helps." Olivia said, folding her hands in front of her, closing her eyes, and bowing her head. "I was backstage, practicing for my entrance. Several other actors and dancers were around me. When the power went out, no one was really surprised. This place is old, we assumed it was faulty wiring. But then… someone screamed. I remember several people running into me in a panic, and the producers yelling at us not to panic. I was jostled around for a while, and eventually, I ended up in the right wing entrance to the stage with Len-"

"Len?" the young man cut her off on cue, and Olivia lifted her head, nodding as she stole a glance at the script.

"Yes. Len Todd, he's a fellow actor, most likely waiting for his own entrance to the stage."

"Mmmm-hmmm." he nodded once. "Continue."

"Anyways, the lights suddenly came back on. When I lifted my head, I saw Lea in the center of the stage with… with that knife in her chest." Oliva shuddered openly. "God, there was so much blood. Immediately, there was an instant panic. The audience, the stagehands, the dancers… Everyone was screaming and running every which way. The producers immediately closed the curtains and tried to calm the situation while we evacuated… And I just froze."

She buried her face in her hands, desperately trying to choke back her sobs.

"Len had to drag me away. I'm so ashamed that I froze like that… I just can't… I just can't believe that Lea is _dead."_

"I see, I see…" he trailed off. "And nobody were actin' suspicious before the crime?"

"No, sir."

"Did you see anything suspicious?"

"... I couldn't tell you if I did." Olivia lifted her head, wiping her eyes. "It's opening night. Everything was a little hectic and I could barely keep track of my own role and lines, let alone anyone else. I personally didn't see anything that struck me as odd or off…"

"I see, I see…"

With that, he slammed the script down on the desk, causing Olivia to jump. She glanced at the script in her own hands again. Not seeing the indicator in the script, she looked back up at him.

"Wh-What was that?" Olivia asked, unintentionally clutching the script to her chest as she stumbled back.

"That," he was still speaking in that accent, head bowed over the script, when suddenly, he snapped his head up with his bright grin. "Was the sound of your victory, crazy lady!"

He strode across the office, took one of her hands in both of his and began shaking it vigorously.

"Wh-Wh-What are you talking about?" Olivia exclaimed. He dropped her hand, placing both of his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm talking about my play! My lead role! My star! Olivia Kelley, you're my Willow!"

"L-L-Lead?" Olivia asked. "St-St-Star?"

As he dropped his hands, she flipped to the first page of the script, where it outlined the characters. Willow Hammerstein…

"Th-Th-The m-m-main female l-l-lead?!" she exclaimed, shaking her head. "No. No, there has to be some sort of mistake. You… You've gotten the wrong girl, Mr. C-Crow wouldn't want s-someone like m-me as his lead…"

"On the contrary," he spoke with a grin. "I don't think I could've picked anyone better."

"... I…?" she echoed, slowly trying to connect the dots.

"... Didn't I tell you my name?"

Olivia shook her head, and the young man let out a laugh.

"Oh, I'm Henry Crow, your director, screenwriter, and as of now, your acting coach!"

"... Director… Screenwriter…?" Olivia echoed.

"And your own personal acting coach!"

Olivia was fairly certain that her brain just short-circuited right there. She knew that the supposed Henry Crow was young, but he looked no older than her, and he was already rather acclaimed in his field. Maybe the skepticism showed on her face, because… Henry pulled out his wallet, casually showing his drivers license. It showed his picture, his name, and his date of birth. He was born in November of the year before her… So he was the same age as her.

"It's always a little surprising. I don't know why people react that way though." Henry shrugged, tucking his wallet away. "Anyways, you've got what it takes to be Willow, but you've got a long ways to go before you can believably convince an audience that you're a reliable narrator while also actually being the most unreliable narrator they've ever seen! That's why I'm gonna help you, so your performance will be a CAWtastrophic success!"

o.0.o.0.o

Panne chose to remain completely silent as she sat in the back of an unmarked police cruiser. Driving was the bald man who introduced himself as Captain Basilio Fortier. In the passenger's seat was the detective who was interrogating her earlier, Flavia Kaplan. And finally, sitting as far away from her as possible, was a man who was maybe around the same age as her…

"... And let me tell you, you won't meet a more hardworking man in Ylisse!"

Apparently, his name is Lon'qu Himura, police officer in training and apparently her bodyguard. And she did not get that information from the man himself, no, she got that from Flavia and Basilio's rather… overly informational introduction. Truly, she now knew his full name, his height, how hard he worked, his aspirations, his favorite food...

And not a word of it came from Lon'qu himself.

She, of course, found it rather odd, perhaps even unprofessional of the two, considering this relationship was to remain as clean-cut as possible. But she wasn't going to let it bother her too much. It was clear that Lon'qu had zero interest in her, in any way. Perhaps these two played parent to the young man often, and perhaps Lon'qu didn't get out often enough to give them confidence in his ability to find a partner himself.

Again, she glanced out of the corner of her eye at her soon to be roommate. His entire body was practically pressed against the door adjacent to his seat, and he refused to look anywhere but pointedly out the window. … He was an odd man, certainly. He flinched every time their eyes met, he refused to come near her, and she was wondering what it could be from.

With a name like Lon'qu Himura, he certainly wasn't from this country. Her family line was not either, but that was long ago when they migrated here. Even still, her skin retained the same tanned color that her ancestors had. A part of her wondered if _that_ were his reason… Even though he seemed rather fine with the equally dark, and in the captain's case, darker, Flavia and Basilio. Perhaps he simply respects them or tolerates them out of respect of a superior?

Before she could ponder her hypothesis further, they pulled into a parking lot of an apartment complex. It was simple and uncomplicated; red brick that went up seven stories, black shutters accenting the windows. Uncared for ivy crawled up the side of the building, and there were small flower beds that were littered with flowers.

Basilio and Flavia gestured for them to follow, so Panne grabbed the duffle bag that Flavia had given to her when they left the hospital. In the lobby, they ran into someone who was loitering.

"Raimi! Glad we caught you!" Flavia shook her hand with familiarity. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, she dragged her forward so that she was face-to-face with the bond Raimi. "See, this here is Panne. She's Lon'qu's _girlfriend_ and will be moving in with him."

Panne was fairly certain Lon'qu choked on his own tongue when Flavia said that. He let out a strange wheeze, then began to cough furiously. Panne simply shot him a long, cold look until he was done.

"Girlfriend?" Raimi didn't sound like she believed it. She looked back and forth between her and Lon'qu, then something seemed to click. "Ah, I see."

"Yep!" Basilio laughed, giving Lon'qu a rough pat on the shoulder. "Make sure you keep her safe, yeah?"

"Of course." Raimi nodded once, and with that, Basilio and Flavia were dragging them away again.

"That was Raimi." Flavia explained simply, in a low, quiet voice. "She's a plain-clothed cop that often patrols the area. I wanted to introduce her to you, as she will be monitoring this building while you're here."

"Not that we don't trust you, Lon'qu." Basilio cut in. "But you can't have your eyes everywhere. We're just doing this to make sure your attacker doesn't decide to stalk you or anything."

Panne didn't say a word in response as they continued up the stairs to the seventh floor. The building on the inside was as simple and unremarkable as the outside, colored brown and beige with some color splashed about here and there.

"Well, this is where we part ways." Basilio turned to Lon'qu with a grin. "Take care of her, Lon'qu!"

"You two better behave!" Flavia teased. "We'll be checking on you periodically while we continue to investigate the case."

"Understood." Lon'qu nodded simply, already moving to unlock the door.

"You'll be safe with him." Flavia reassured her, patting her on the shoulder.

"I'd leave you with no better agent!" Basilio grinned. Panne simply nodded, not sure why they were so insistent on trying to reassure her safety. She had taken care of herself relatively well, up until this point…

As Basilio and Flavia left, Lon'qu was already opening the door. Lon'qu stepped inside, holding open the door as indication for her to follow. The apartment was as simple as the building it was in, providing the few necessities for living. There was a kitchen, a small living area with a couch, table, and television, and a hallway that lead to were, assumably, the bedrooms and the bathroom was.

Everything was very pristine and orderly, which in comparison to her brothers' rooms, was unexpected. But unlike her rambunctious brothers… Well, this man didn't seem like the type to put up with any unneeded mess.

The only thing that caught her off guard, however, was the red and blue tape that lined the entire apartment. Side by side, the lines of tape divided the entire apartment neatly in half, from the hallway to the tables… Even the couch was divided neatly in half. She glanced down at her feet, and saw she was standing next to the red line, while Lon'qu was pointedly next to the blue line.

Panne simply turned to look at him, demanding an explanation.

"As long as you're in Witness Protection, you will be living here." Lon'qu explained simply. "Tomorrow, we will go out to get you anything else you may need. Now, with that settled, we have some rules we need to establish."

"Assuming that this has anything to do with the tape," Panne closed her eyes, hoping to swallow the bit of annoyance in her heart. "As it does not strike me as an interior design of choice."

"Partially, yes." Lon'qu answered. "First off, you are not allowed to go anywhere without me, not even to the lobby. Second, when we do plan to go somewhere, you're not allowed to leave my sight. Third, the apartment is divided in half. The red half is your half, the blue half is mine. Do not cross into my half while I am here and do not come near me."

Panne felt her lips part in genuine shock as he said this. He looked deadly serious, and she felt her fists clench in irritation.

"You're Basilio's best man?" Panne couldn't help but snap. "Do you fancy this some sort of game? Can you not see past your racism to do your job? Because I feel that you have very little room to talk, considering you're clearly not from Ylisse."

"This is not a race issue." Lon'qu suddenly affirmed strictly. "It is… a gender issue."

"... So you're sexist, then." Panne stated bluntly. At this point, she felt she would be better off just living on the street, or in the mental ward as Tharja had threatened. At least if she escaped from the mental ward, she could fly under the radar and no one would care to notice. Lon'qu let out an impatient sigh, shaking his head.

"No. I have nothing against the female gender, I just am deathly afraid of them." Lon'qu explained simply. Panne crossed her arms, starting pointedly at him.

"You're afraid of girls." she spoke simply.

"... Yes." Lon'qu looked uncomfortable as he averted his gaze. "Only Basilio knows, but I think he thinks it's a strange phase. Flavia is unaware, but that is only because I cannot become a police officer unless I'm psychologically stable… And that includes free of phobias that would obstruct my progress in the workplace."

"... Perhaps this is a test of resilience then." Panne sighed, rubbing her temple. "What am I to do for places we both have to frequent, such as the kitchen or the bathroom?"

She shot a look back at the kitchen, and didn't see tape dividing anything in half, she glanced back at Lon'qu.

"There's purple tape lining the floor for areas we can both cross into." Lon'qu made a point to lead her towards the kitchen where, just in front of the entrance, was a single line of purple tape. "Same is for the bathroom. If the door is shut, simply knock. The only area you are completely blocked from is my room, whereas I won't enter yours."

With that, Lon'qu turned and went down the hallway. Panne had a feeling he was going into his room, her assumption correct when she heard a door click shut. With little else to do, she herself followed the red tap down the hall until it was cut off at a room. Across the hallway was the bathroom, indicated by the purple tape on the ground, and at the farthest end was Lon'qu's room, as indicated by the blue tape.

Sighing, she herself entered her room and shut the door. There was a small window, a bed, a dresser, and a nightstand with a lamp, but otherwise, the room was pretty bare. Knowing that Lon'qu most likely did not have many guests, she was probably the first to stay in this room.

This arrangement was going to be odd at its best and downright intolerable at its worst…

o.0.o.0.o

"I refuse."

Lissa sighed as Maribelle stubbornly sat in the back of her driver's car, legs and arms crossed and nose turned up in the air.

"Come on, Maribelle, I promise it's not that bad. It's not like this is in a terrible part of town…"

"Darling, I will do many things for and with you." Maribelle spoke calmly and tactfully, befitting of a teenager who swore up and down that she wanted to be a lawyer one day. "But I simply refuse to pay money for grease ridden slop thrown on a plate."

"Then order a salad." Lissa spoke up. "C'mon, I know that you're not a fan of things like this, but my brother said that it was really good! The owner is also really nice, and apparently already knows Stahl and his friends by name!"

"Any sane man who owns a restaurant would know Stahl by name, going by the rumors of how much he can supposedly eat." Maribelle snapped back.

"Um, hey." the chauffeur suddenly spoke up, turning to look at them in the backseat. "Not to rush you or anything, Miss Maribelle, but your father needs me to chauffeur him to a dinner party tonight. I really need to be on time, so could you please make a decision?"

"You would have to go home to pick up my parents, correct? That is fine, Lissa will simply spend the night at my hou-"

"Maribelle," Lissa dove into her friends window, grabbing her hands out of desperation. "Listen, I'm supposed to be _Alissa Juno,_ right? A normal girl who came here from a small town because she got accepted, and that's why no one has ever seen me around here? Problem is, I don't know what's _normal._ So maybe if we go to a place where normal people go, I can have a better idea of how to act as a _normal girl._ Now, doesn't that make sense?"

Maribelle seemed to contemplate that for a moment, giving Lissa a small chance to relax. In truth, just trying to get here was an ordeal in and of itself, woven together under an intricate cover of small white lies. Like how Frederick didn't have to come and pick her up because she was going home with Maribelle. And how Maribelle didn't need to worry about Frederick because he was helping Chrom with homework. And how Emmeryn was a-okay with all of this even though she didn't exactly know where she was right now.

"... That does sound rather logical…" Maribelle admitted slowly, allowing Lissa to sigh in relief. Knowing her friend was always won over by logical arguments, Lissa opened the car door, and Maribelle simply brushed off the skirt of her pink sundress, and stood. Walking to the front, she turned to address the driver. "When will you be available to pick us up?"

"Well, the dinner party ends at nine, and I need to be there at least a half hour early in order to get your parents, Miss Maribelle. So, anytime between six and eight?"

"That'll work!" Lissa grinned, gripping Maribelle's arm. "Thank you so much!"

"Anytime." the driver spoke, tilting his hat to them out of obligation. Then, the two girls back up, allowing him to get out of the parking space, and drive on to continue his chauffeurly duties.

Finally able to turn to the diner, Lissa couldn't help but beam out of excitement. Though it was small, it looked rather quaint, the warm colors of the building only made more welcoming by the plethora of flowers planted around the entrance.

"Come on, Maribelle! Let's go, let's go, let's go!" Lissa bounced on the balls of her feet as Maribelle walked up the lane.

"Dear, do pace yourself. It's simply dinner at a diner, no need to get so overly excited." Maribelle spoke haughtily, but Lissa was struggling to contain her excitement. This place seemed warm and welcoming, and were her life normal, Lissa could clearly imagine her and her siblings eating here with their mother…

Lost in thoughts and memories, Lissa wasn't even aware with how packed the place was until she nearly ran into someone. Stepping back into the waiting area, both she and Maribelle overlooked the restaurant.

It was filled to the brim with a variety of people, all chatting happily and some even singing to music playing over the intercom. One thing Lissa noticed firsthand was that most of the people here were undoubtedly attractive, and most of those attractive people indeed had the ability to sing. And at the head of it all was a grinning, white haired man, perhaps no older than her own brother. He had a wireless mic in his hand, also singing lyrics and seemingly leading the whole ordeal, though he was taking it much lightheartedly, singing with exaggerated gestures and lyrics that maybe didn't quite match the song.

"I don't think that we'll be getting a table, Lissa." Maribelle spoke plainly, viewing the somewhat rowdy crowd with obvious contempt.

"Hi there!"

A girl's voice cut through her thoughts, and Lissa blinked, slowly bringing her gaze down. There, she saw a young, bright-eyed girl that she did in fact recognize. It was Nowi, a girl that Ricken had pointed out to her on their first day. Before she could utter a word, however, Nowi bowed at the waist.

"Greatest apologies! Unfortunately, we're completely booked due to a theatre celebration! But here," Nowi ducked behind the hostess stand and popped up with two slips of paper. Pressing them into their open palms, Lissa realized they were coupons. "Take these and come back tomorrow, and we'll give you a dinner you'll never forget!"

"... Lovely." Maribelle looked at the coupon with distaste, then turned to Lissa. "Well, you heard that correctly, no? It's just so terribly disappointing." Maribelle let out a sigh, then grabbed Lissa's hand, pulling her towards the door. "Come along now, Lissa. I'm sure if we call Joseph, he can come back around and still take us home with enough time to spare-"

"Hey, Donny!" Lissa cut Maribelle off as she made eye contact with one familiar face. Donnel, dressed rather casually in a plain T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, turned his head from the spectacle of the white-haired man singing, then smiled, raising his hand in a wave. However, Lissa felt a deep freeze form next to her. As if Donnel felt it too, he flinched, dropped his hand, and awkwardly looked anywhere but at her. Lissa pouted for a moment, turned back to Nowi. "Excuse me, would it be okay if I go say hi to my friend?"

"Your friend?" Nowi cocked her head, then shrugged. "Sure, why not!"

"Thank you!" Lissa smiled, turning to walk into the crowd, when Maribelle grabbed her arm.

"Lissa, what did Ricken and I tell you about the hierarchy in our school?" Maribelle whispered in a harsh tone. "You of all people can't afford to do something like this-"

"E-Ella, lemme go!"

Donnel's voice echoed over the loud music, coming closer, though when Lissa looked up, he was dragging his heels. Why? Because he was being dragged by an older girl with long, straight blue hair and big gray eyes. Donnel looked fearful, like he was about to be sick, but the older girl was grinning ear to ear, clearly happy to introduce herself, against Donnel's will.

It was only when they reached the two high school girls that she stopped, but kept Donnel's arm in her grip.

"Ella, c'mon…" Donnel trailed off, but the woman, Ella, began to gesture with her hands. Lissa had no clue what had transpired, but when Donnel opened his mouth again, Ella released his arm and put her hands on her hips. Then, she began moving her hands again. Then her shoulders began to quiver, lip pouting, she buried her face in her hands, seemingly crying.

"So you have a habit of making young women cry." Maribelle observed. Donnel snapped his head to her.

"Aw, no! She's just being dramatic, that's all!" Donnel tried desperately to explain. Then, he turned to Ella. "If I introduce ya, will ya stop all this nonsense?"

Ella snapped her head up with a beaming grin, nodding enthusiastically. Donnel sighed in defeat, and Ella latched her arms around his neck. Finally resting her head on his shoulder, she stared at them expectantly.

"Alright, Ella, this is Maribelle," he nodded in her direction. "And Alissa, Lissa for short. They're also students from the academy, Lissa and Maribelle, this is my older sis, Ella."

Ella shot her hand out to shake her hand. Lissa reached out and shook it happily.

"Nice to meet you, Ella!"

"Pleasure." Maribelle spoke curtly, turning her nose away and crossing her arms, a clear indication of not wanting to shake her head.

"So what's going on here?" Lissa asked, deciding to continue the conversation. Ella beamed and, with her arms still wrapped around her brother's neck, began gesturing again. Lissa blinked once, twice, then cocked her head.

"Not everyone can understand ya, Ella." Donnel spoke plainly. With that, Ella playfully smacked Donel on the head, and gestured again with a grin. Donnel simply sighed. "Alright, alright, but I ain't a dummy."

"So…?"

"Ella's mute." Donnel spoke plainly. "Has been since I met 'er. So she signs everything she says, that or she…" he trailed off thoughtfully. "Say, where's your notebook, Ella? One of these days, I ain't gonna be here to translate for ya."

Ella rolled her eyes. Releasing Donnel, she began to sign again, then pointing at a purple haired man with sharp features in the back. Despite his sharp features, he, in Lissa's opinion, looked sleepy.

"... That's what Demyan's for." Donnel sighed at what she said, then turned back to them. "Anyways, Ella was tellin' ya that this is all for a big ol' play that's gonna be goin' on at the Feroxi Theatre."

Ella signed again with a big grin, and Donnel's face seemed to get dusted in pink.

"I ain't translatin' that." Donnel spoke simply. Ella pouted. "Naw! Ella, it's embarassin'!"

Cheeks inflating slightly as she sucked in air, Ella turned on her heel and stomped over to the purple haired man that she had pointed out earlier. Within moments, she was dragging him back, a bit more willing than her brother.

"Hey," Demyan spoke, raising his hand sleepily. Ella signed, and Demyan spoke as soon as she finished. "Now Donnel, are you gonna translate for me or not?"

Donnel tensed, looking at Demyan.

"Demyan, c'mon." Donnel spoke, but Demyan smirked a little, then turned back to Ella, who signed again.

"As the owner, I'd be honored to have the pretty friends Donnel's talked so much about at the debut."

With that, Demyan turned on his heel and walked back to his booth, grinning slightly. Ella was also beaming, and Donnel's expression was utterly embarrassed. Maribelle quirked an eyebrow, and Lissa averted her gaze, feeling a small blush rise to her cheeks.

"A-Anyways!" Lissa cut in. "You can understand her, Donny?"

"Er, yeah."

"That's really cool!" Lissa praised.

"Aw, it ain't nothin' special." Donnel murmured, lifting his hat off his head and covering his face. Ella grinned, then tapped him on the shoulder, signing something to him.

"Yup, Ella." he groaned, putting his hat on his head. "You're embarrassing me!"

Ella signed something, then pecked Donnel on the cheek.

"Sorry." Donnel ran his head down his face as Ella grinned. "Yeah, well, it's fine, I 'spose."

Ella clapped her hands happily.

"You mentioned something about a theatre?" Maribelle suddenly inquired. Ella beamed at her, and began to sign again.

"It's the theatre I own," Donnel translated. "We've got a really big director here to feature one of his plays here. So this whole party is 'cause she and the director just settled the cast."

"So this is a casting party." Maribelle spoke plainly.

"Yup."

The conversation trailed off into an awkward silence, when suddenly, Maribelle grabbed her arm.

"Well then. Lissa, we really should be going. It would be terribly rude for us to simply barge in on their party and all. Come along-"

Ella clapped her hands sharply, shaking her head. Then, she turned to Donnel, and began to sign. Donnel shot a hesitant glance at Maribelle.

"Are ya sure 'bout that, Ella?"

Ella simply nodded with a bright grin.

"Well, alright then." Donnel turned back to them, adjusting his cap slightly. "Ella says ya can stay if ya want."

"Really?!" Lissa couldn't help but grin. "Thanks!

"Yes." Maribelle's tone, in contrast to Lissa's, was painfully dull and unenthusiastic. "My gratitude."

o.0.o.0.o

Virion simply could not, under any circumstances, believe that he was late. Him! _The_ Virion Roseanne, the most well known theatre actor in this day in age, the Actorest of Actors, the modern day Richard Burbage, the _pride_ of the Roseanne family… Was running _late._

He could hardly believe it himself.

But even worse, judging by the amount of times his phone was ringing, Cherche had noticed his tardiness. Now, Cherche was a great childhood friend, but horribly overbearing and threatening, when she wanted to be. And even worse, she had that _devil mutt_ that had the audacity to call herself a dog. Minerva was an absolute _beast,_ and Virion was fairly certain he had developed some sort of disorder from being threatened or chased by her one too many times.

Finally reaching the diner, he parked his one-of-a-kind sports car, a rather generous gift from his parents, and began to walk towards the diner's entrance. He swiped through his phone with disdain. Most of his messages and calls were from Cherche, but the director, Henry Crow, had sent him a particularly unsettling picture.

 _Virion, you're missing out! Cherche brought the most adorable little puppy!_

And under that text was a picture of Henry, one arm around Olivia and in between them, Minerva. Virion couldn't help but flinch at the sight of the oversized mutt. The rottweiler-great dane mix was panting, tongue lolling out of her effectively hideous snout, followed by bunches of baggy skin covered in fur. Olivia looked exceedingly uncomfortable with the huge beast next to her, and Virion did not blame her in the slightest.

As if to add salt to his wounds, Cherche then sent him a text.

 _Minerva's here._

Stomach dropping with despair, as he knew Cherche would no doubt set that blasted mutt on him, Virion hid the phone away in his pocket.

About to accept his fate, he was only saved by one thing; a curse.

"Back off, asshole!"

Though Virion knew the rumor of the cat and curiosity, he couldn't help himself. This was especially so, considering it sounded like a _lady_ was in distress. A lady with a rather rough and tumble tongue in her mouth, but a lady nonetheless…

So, ignoring the diner only temporarily, he edged himself around the wall to have a peek at what was going on.

Truly, it was like a scene from a script.

The lady, as beautiful as he had ever seen, with short hair the color of fire on a cold night. Her hair contrasted greatly to her skin, pale as freshly fallen snow. Her eyes, like her hair, blazed like rubies at the situation she was confronted with. Two unsavory and rather _large_ men were cornering her. One had a had around her throat, pinning her to the wall with a knife right under her nose, while another was digging through the backpack that no doubt was hers.

Virion ducked around corner again, placing a hand over his heart in surprise. Truly, Virion had the admiration of a thousand women, almost as many as there were flowers in the field. _However,_ while he adored the attention of females, he himself never felt quite so _enamored_ by one.

He quickly thought on his feet, going around the corner with confrontation in mind. Were this a theatre script, he, the male protagonist and hero, would rush out and save the damsel, thus setting their romance on course.

Already imagining his reward for his courageous and chivalrous deed, Virion made his presence known.

"Halt, fiends!" he exclaimed. Their attention on him, Virion put on his best glare. "As long as I stand, I will not allow you to harm her any longer!"

The two men shot him a look that no doubt would have sent most men running in fear. However, he was not most men, he was the incredible _Virion Roseanne._

"Beat it, pretty boy." one spat. "We don't have time to knock you around."

"I refuse." Virion shot back. "There's no need to harm such a beautiful woman. Now then, you can let her go and surrender, or _I_ shall force you to release her."

Now, this is where things went _slightly_ off script. The way Virion imagined it, the thugs would have been shaken to their core by his intense threat, release the dame, and ran screaming into the night. There, Virion would retrieve the woman's bag, offer it to her, and they would engage in a passionate kiss; his reward for saving her life.

However, Virion instead found his head snapping back with intense pain revertibrating throughout his face. With horror, Virion felt something dribble down his nose. Knowing it wasn't mucus, as someone as perfect as him did not suffer from allergies, Virion knew it was blood.

Those men actually had the gall, the _gall,_ to punch him! Him! _Virion Edwin Roseanne!_

As he was recovering from the shock, the men spoke.

"Ain't so tough now, are ya, prettyboy." one spat at him. Virion sat up, unsure what to do about the blood. He was not one so vulgar as to wipe it on the sleeve of his shirt, but he currently lacked a tissue of sorts…

The same man suddenly kicked him in the chest, pressing him to the ground.

"Check him for a wallet and keys. He seems like the type to be flashy with his money, might have something good on him."

"Now hold a moment-"

Virion found himself miraculously silenced as the other man held a knife under his nose.

"Keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you."

"Hey-!"

Virion lifted his head slightly as the other man suddenly went flying back. In surprise, the man pinning him released him, allowing him to sit up. There, Virion saw the woman take on a fighting stance, almost as if she were experienced. The man who pinned the woman stumbled to his feet, but before he could counter-attack, the woman lifted her leg and executed a perfect roundhouse kick to the head, knocking him out.

"Stupid bitch-!" the other man charged, but the woman got back into stance.

Ducking down, her fist lashed out hitting him in the stomach. The man hunched over, then she punched him the jaw, sending him flying into the wall. There was a resounding crack as he hit, and then he slumped to the ground, unconscious. The woman didn't loosen her stand for a good minute, until she knew that they were surely out cold.

"Damn…" the woman shook out her hand, as if in pain. "Why is it that all the dumbasses have such hard heads?"

Taking that same hand, she rubbed the back of her neck, popping it in the process, then dusted off her jeans and her hoodie. It was only then that Virion himself got to his feet. He was not going to admit to gaping, but if those robbers went slightly off script, then this woman just took the script and burnt it to a crisp! Truly, he has yet to come across a woman as absolutely remarkable as she!

The woman had already retrieved her bag, and had her phone out of her pocket.

"Yeah, I think some chick almost got mugged down by Gregor's diner. She got away, but the perps are here, knocked out. Though you might wanna send a cop or an ambulance or something for 'em."

With that, she hung up the phone with an annoyed sigh. Then, she lifted her gaze to Virion, eyes narrowed to slits.

"So are you gonna keep staring at me, or am I gonna have to knock you around like those morons?"

"N-Not at all!" Virion exclaimed. "I must say, miss, that was an impressive display of strength. You've even impressed me, Virion Ed-"

"Yeah, whatever." she turned on her heel, toting her bag over her shoulder. "Gonna be honest, Ruffles. Might wanna skedaddle before the cops come, unless you want them to think _you_ were the chick that almost got mugged."

She turned to walk again.

"Wait!" Virion called out again. The woman groaned, then turned back to him.

" _What?"_ she demanded.

"Might I know the name of a woman as beautiful and astounding as yourself?"

His request was accompanied by a flirtatious smile, and the woman simply narrowed her eyes at him.

"The name's Sully." she grunted to him.

"Ah, Sully, a beautiful name for a beautiful specimen! I am-"

"What did you just call me?" Sully cut him off, turning fully to glare at him.

"Nothing to offend you, I assure you! I would never talk terribly of a woman as lovely as yourself."

"Yeah." Sully rolled her eyes, going into her backpack. "Sure."

"Anyways," Virion cleared his throat. "I am the famous, the benevolent, the most spectacular-"

Virion cut himself off as a towel suddenly wrapped around his face. He sputtered in momentary surprised, pulling it off his face. Staring down at it, he saw it was stained slightly with his blood.

"You look like you've got somewhere to be." Sully spoke simply. "'Cause it isn't like pretty boys like you wander around all the time. So that," she nodded to the towl. "Is my thanks for… failing to help me…?"

Her tone trailed off into a questioning tone, then she shook her head with a scowl.

"Just, whatever. Get out of here before the cops come, Ruffles."

"V-Virion!" he blurted out. Sully shot him an odd look.

"What?"

"Virion. My name is Virion."

Virion certainly expected some sort of reaction from Sully, but not the one he got. Typically, when women heard his name, they squealed and got all excited. But she simply gave him a strange look, then turned on her heel.

"Later, Ruffles."

o.0.o.0.o

 **Hello once again, everyone! Sorry for taking a bit longer this time, both Amy and I have been busy with real life (adulting is so difficult sometimes), but we've got this chapter up now at least!**

 **Also, starting this chapter, we are setting up our chapter titles as a theme of flowers. Each chapter, and the new cover image, has a flower to match it. Let's see if any of you can guess what the meanings we're going for are!**

 **Now onto the references this chapter! In regards to Henry's play, the detective Brian Kitt is a reference to both Tom Kitt and Brian Yorkey, the victim Lea is a reference to Lea Salonga, the actor Len Todd is a reference to Len Cariou and Sweeney Todd and Olivia's character Willow Hammerstein is a reference to Oscar Hammerstein II. In regards to Virion's promotion as the "modern day Richard Burbage", that is a reference to the actor as well.**

 **Now, thank you to Amy for reviewing (I think if we keep up the rate we're going, this story will end with a 100 page chapter, haha!) as well as Tertium457 and violindancing for following!**

 **I hope you all enjoyed this very long chapter, we've spent over a month working on it (mostly due to my procrastinating), but I'm proud of the result! Please leave a review so we can have some feedback and get to work on the next chapter when we have time (when we're both out of school for the summer most likely.)**

 **Until next time everyone!**


	4. Chapter 4:Anemone

o.0.o.0.o

Ricken did his best to still his bouncing knee as he waited in the guidance counselor's office. He purposely chose the window as far away from the door as possible, not willing to risk being seen by anyone in the halls. Even if he was here purely for academic reasons, he didn't need some rumor that he was here for emotional or behavioral issues…

"Ricken…" the monotonous voice echoed throughout the office. Ricken lifted his head, meeting his counselor's stoic gaze, then stood.

Mr. Dubay, of all the counselors in the academy, was definitely the most deadpanned and monotonous. In fact, Ricken was still wondering how or why he even chose to become a counselor to begin with. He hated small talk, cut right to the chase, wasn't in any sense sentimental, and his advice, well… His advice for struggling students could range from blunt to downright sociopathic.

As an academic counselor, however, he was fantastic. Ricken knew from his summer meetings with him that he very much valued academics and students broadening their horizons in the world. Along with his own seemingly endless amounts of knowledge, Mr. Dubay almost always signed off on most everything Ricken had instilled in his academic plans.

Right now, Mr. Dubay was scrolling through his academic records with a rather bored look on his face. For a moment, Ricken allowed his gaze to wander around the office. Though he knew and liked him as a counselor, he didn't know much about him, and it seems most of the school didn't know either. Rumors varied on everything about him, from what country he was from to his marital status to his affiliations with other people… And judging from his organized, plain office, not much was going to be revealed.

The only thing that caught Ricken's eye was a photo in a single frame, with six faces of small children. One maybe looked like Mr. Dubay's kid, as he looked like him, but judging by the others and their appearances, there was no relation.

"Your grades are exceptional." Mr. Dubay immediately caught his attention again. "And you're rather active in the speech and debate club, the academic decathlon, and are running as Freshman representative of the student council. However, and I'm only saying this because it's mandated by my job description," Mr. Dubay inhaled, then exhaled. "Are you planning to join any clubs for… fun?"

"... I don't have time for stuff like that." Ricken muttered quietly. "I need to look as great as I can so I don't lose the scholarship I'm on."

There it was, the very bane to his current existence. The one thing that would surely cause his social suicide if it were to ever get out… He was a scholarship kid, a "mooch".

In truth, Ricken was never meant to go to this school anyways. His parents had already planned out that he would be going to some foreign boarding school in Chron'sin, so that he can work on his relation and communication skills for this father's company. However, his father had gotten caught up in an embezzlement scam that almost ruined the entire family. It took everything within the small amount of power that his father had to keep it out of the media, to keep it safe. His mother, in the meantime, was scrambling to find him a place to go, and they just got lucky by getting him into Iris Academy.

To this moment, Ricken knew that there wasn't any strings she had pulled. He was what some people liked to call a 'prodigy' in academics. By the time he was in second grade, he was functioning at a eighth grade level in most all of his subjects. Once he got to middle school, he was being prepped for college courses. His parents hoped the boarding school would help work to his needs as a gifted kid, but when that fell out, they had to have him go somewhere on scholarship, even if it was last minute.

He was functioning at the highest possible level on the entrance exam to Iris Academy. Refusing him would be like refusing the perfect poster child. If he succeeded, they could point to him and say to prospective students 'This child came in and got into one of the top universities in the country. He's a critically acclaimed doctor now, and his success is all because of coming to this Academy'.

However, the only catch was that the academy was _strict_ when it came to his coursework. He blew the tests out of the water for his specific age range, but if he wanted this scholarship, he wouldn't be allowed to test for higher grade levels. He supposed this was because the school didn't want the public to think that their coursework was too easy, and really, what choice did he have? So here he was, functioning at a college level, but taking Advanced Placement courses meant for freshmen in highschool.

Thus, he began to fill his spare time with clubs so he would look even _better_ than his planned 4.0 GPA did. Even if he doubted the school would let him go without a fight, he couldn't help but worry about what would happen should he lose the scholarship.

The worst case scenario was being sent to some decrepit public school, abandoned by Maribelle, and being the victim of intense bullying due to his height.

 _But even still,_ he would take that over being found out as a scholarship kid in this Academy. Not even Maribelle, who he held at the highest esteem, was below avoiding a mooch, simply because of reputation.

"I'm well aware of that." Mr. Dubay suddenly cut into his thoughts, folding his hands on the desk. "But all of this work can't possibly be good for you, even if you are insanely ambitious."

Ricken almost wanted to laugh. What work was there for his classes? He was breezing through them like a knife cuts through soft butter. _His_ biggest stresser right now was the social minefield he was currently walking in.

"Anyways," Mr. Dubay clicked a couple things on his computer. "You're all set, I guess. Just try to find one club that's considered semi-enjoyable so I don't have the principal interrogating me about one of their precious prodigy students, okay?"

"Alright." Ricken stood, turning towards the door. As he reached for the doorknob, however…

"Ricken," Mr. Dubay spoke, and Ricken paused. "... I mean it. You're only a kid once in your life. You don't know when something will happen that will tear that apart."

Surprised by the sincerity and complete lack of sarcasm in his tone, Ricken glanced over his shoulder, only to see Mr. Dubay staring thoughtfully at the only picture frame on his desk.

"... I'll… consider it." Ricken finally said.

"Good." was all Mr. Dubay responded with.

Taking that as his cue to leave, Ricken exited his office. They had this conversation every time Ricken came to see him and, by this point, Ricken had given up. He would just lie, it kept Mr. Dubay off his back, after all. However, something about this meeting seemed surprisingly genuine, at least on Mr. Dubay's part.

Exiting the counselors office for good, Ricken's gaze slowly trailed to a TV, advertising various clubs with colorful commercials. At this moment, there was an advertisement for the video game club, which seemed less like a 'club' about games and more like a safe haven for mooches.

… In truth, he really liked video games, but not in the same way as a typical teenager would. He enjoyed looking over the graphics and story and the programming that went into the video games… So much so that he decided to dabble a little in programming a game.

He actually wanted to program a video game someday, that was his biggest dream. But...there was no way he had the creativity to come up with an amazing plot or relatable characters. So, he just brushed his dream aside. He'd work to improve his family's image and prove he could make it in this world, despite his status as a scholarship holder at Iris Academy.

"Gah, come on! Lemme go!"

Hearing the small yelp, Ricken tore his gaze from the TV screen, and saw a couple of upperclassmen holding Nowi Devine by her arms. She was kicking and biting at them, but they simply laughed, easily overpowering the small girl. One of them had her backpack in their hands, rummaging through it to see if they could find anything useful.

"Gah, useless!" one of the boys simply tossed the bag in the trash.

"Well, what did you expect from a mooch?" another snickered.

"Let go, jerks!" Nowi thrashed around again. "Come on, that bag has-"

She let out a yelp as she was lifted clear off her feet, being toted towards an open, probably empty locker.

"Hey!" Nowi's tone held a tone of fear as she tried to break free again. Suddenly, she made eye contact with him, and Ricken froze. There was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. "Ricken! Help me out! Please! _Please!"_

Ricken tensed as tears pricked around the edges of Nowi's eyes. He glanced down at his feet. This… was not something he wanted to not observe. He remembered in middle school, when he and Nowi semi-got along to a certain extent. They were both small for their age, so they naturally came together as partners in gym classes and such. During those days, it felt like he knew Nowi better than he knew anyone, even himself. But now, the green haired girl felt like a stranger that he had never met before… a distant memory.

Her eyes stared at him, begging for help, for a rescue.

"Hey, smallfry," one of them was right in front of him, and suddenly, he was being pulled up by the front of his shirt, barely on his toes as he made eye contact with the aggressor. "Do you have anything to say?"

He had a thousand things to say, of course, but he held his tongue. Ricken knew that if he did, it'd be social suicide, just like joining the video game club would be. If word got out about his scholarship, it would be like throwing bait out for hungry sharks. He was already on a social minefield, carefully avoiding an explosion at every turn. Helping out someone else who was considered a mooch, as Nowi was, would ruin his reputation at the school, and in turn ruin his family's even more.

"J-Just passing by." Ricken held up his hands, and the bully smirked.

"Thought so." Releasing him, he went around him and gave Ricken a shove forward. He stumbled into a walk, past Nowi, past the harassers.

God, he did not like this feeling. His heart clenched tightly and his stomach turned like he was sick…like he _failed._

But by the time he had the confidence to raise his head only slightly, he heard the locker door slam shut, followed by the muffled sobs of Nowi as she pounded her fists against the metalic door. Hesitantly, Ricken cast a glance over his shoulder, and saw the upperclassmen were still hanging out around the locker, talking rather loudly to drown out her cries.

Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, Ricken tried to suppress the anxious, awful feeling in his system and continued forward.

As of now, there was nothing that he could do for Nowi.

o.0.o.0.o

"... I just don't understand it! I thought we got over that old-fashioned crap when we graduated high school, but nope!"

Chrom sighed as Sully continued to rant and rave about english class. In truth, Sully was never the _greatest_ at deep interpretations on novels and such. She was a blunt person, so unless it was spelled out right in front of her, she wasn't going to get it. It wasn't anything against her, it was just how her mind functioned.

For a moment, Chrom tried to imagine Sully in one of Miriel's classes. No doubt the girl would surely blow a gasket trying to understand half the sentences the professor spoke…

"So whaddya say about grabbing some grub? I'm done for the day, and you're good too, right?"

"Until practice starts." Chrom reminded her. "Remember? We can't go on a wild Sully excursion today."

"Damn, always forget that." Sully glanced at her phone for the time, then shrugged. "Ah, well, it's two now. You should be fine for food, right?"

"As long as it's _just food."_ Chrom insisted.

"I know. I _get it."_

"Sully, seriously, last time you said it was just food, Stahl and I ended up pulling you from a lake because you dived in off a cliff-"

He cut himself off as his phone rang. Pulling out the device, he raised an eyebrow.

"Who's callin'?" Sully asked, peeking at his phone.

"Sumia." Chrom answered. "That's strange, she literally just got out of class, if I remember correctly…"

Answering with a hello, he was met with a cry of relief.

" _Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you Chro- CHRIS!"_

She laughed nervously as she practically yelled his fake name into the phone. In the background, he heard other students talking.

" _Please, I really, really need your help!_ "

"Hold on, calm down." Chrom tried to ease Sumia back into a state of not crying, moving the phone to his other ear. Sully was quiet, listening intently. "What's wrong?"

A string of words flew from Sumia's lips, so fast Chrom didn't have a hope of understanding. He paused for a moment.

"... Come again?"

"Gimme that." Sully sighed, snatching the phone from his ear and speaking into it. "Sumia, give me a minute."

Sully then pulled her headphones from her pocket, plugging them into his phone, then popping an earbud in her ear. Offering the other one to Chrom, she spoke only when he took it.

"Alright, talk, but at a pace where someone outside of a purse dog high on expresso can understand you."

" _My car's outta gas!_ " Sumia blurted. " _I've been so caught up with work and school I forgot to fill it! It won't even move when I start it!_ "

Chrom felt bad for the girl. He could tell she was already crying, most likely overwhelmed by everything.

"Okay. There's a gas station three blocks down, walk there, fill up a gas can, and walk back." Sully suggested bluntly.

" _I can't!"_ Sumia practically wailed. " _I got a text during class to cover another shift! I-I need a ride and if I don't get there in ten minutes I'll be late! No one else would answer! Please, if you're free-"_

"That's fine, Sumia." Chrom cut in before she could start crying again. "Sully and I were talking about getting food anyways, we'll just eat at the diner." He turned to Sully. "Is that fine for you?"

"Peachy." Sully ground out through gritted teeth. Chrom couldn't suppress his wince. Sully was mad about something.

"When do you work till?" Chrom asked.

" _Um, the shift I'm covering goes to seven, b-but I'll get someone to drive me back by then! I know you have practice tonight, Chris, so I won't bother you for that!"_

"We'll get gas for your car too, enough so that you can get to the station yourself and top it off." Chrom offered. "So then you won't have to worry about it. Just make sure to remember to give us your keys, okay?"

" _Oh, thank you so much!"_ Sumia sniffled. " _I'm so relieved I could cry!"_

"Well, don't." Sully suddenly spoke. "What're friends for if it isn't for helping you?"

" _Thank you!"_ Sumia exclaimed. " _Thank you, thank you!"_

"We'll meet in the commuter lot and take my car-"

"And I'll drive." Sully cut in. "See you around, Sumia. You can thank us a thousand times over when we meet up."

Sully then hung up the phone, tugged her headphones free, and held his phone out to him. Chrom gave her a flat look.

"What? Did you expect me to let you drive?"

"I'm not that bad!"

"You say that every time you have to take your car to the shop or you accidentally back your car into something else!" Sully snapped back at him. "Yes, Chris! You are that bad!"

Tossing his phone at him, Sully turned, stomping in the direction of the exit. Chrom fumbled to catch his phone, and once it was safely in his pants pocket, he followed after her. They walked in stride together for a moment, then Sully spoke.

"Doesn't it piss you off at all?"

"What?"

"All those _people,"_ she practically spat. "Taking advantage of Sumia like that. I mean, really? In the middle of class and expecting her to get there immediately afterwards? Where's their sense of respect or decency or hell, responsibility?"

Chrom didn't respond as Sully continued ranting on.

"I mean, I know Sumia's never had to work a day in her life, but doesn't she _get it_ that these people are using her?"

"Sumia wants to own her own horse farm one day." Chrom spoke slowly. "I think that, in order to do that, she's trying to get _away_ from the idea of relying on her parents' money, which is very hard to do considering both her parents are successful doctors researching new cures and medicines for various diseases. So she's working so hard to _gain_ experience, I think…"

The door slammed shut behind them as they exited the building

"But is it worth it if she's stressing this much?" Sully demanded. "She's studying to become a vet, that's not an easy degree from what I've heard. She can't keep balancing this workload and her student workload all at once."

"That's why we're here to help her as much as we can." Chrom spoke quietly, as they were approaching the car and Sumia was already there, anxiously awaiting them. "We'll talk to her more in depth about this later, but right now, we just need to help her out and help her get through the semester."

"Yeah…" Sully sighed, crossing her arms behind her head. "Whatever."

o.0.o.0.o

Once they reached Gregor's Diner, Gregor seemed surprised that Sumia was there, yet shrugged it off when she explained she was covering for someone. Nowi then skipped them over to a table, smiling brightly as she handed them the menus.

"Anyways, I wanted to tell you this earlier, but it slipped my mind 'cause of Sumia." Sully pulled out her phone, opening an app. "So the other night, I met this weirdo, right? We had a brief conversation or whatever, and he somehow found my profile on Echoes of Voices!"

To prove her point, she showed him a friend request from on the huge social media platform. Briefly, Chrom glanced over the small request. _Virion Rosanne sent you a friend request!_ Was in between the accept and decline button, and a photo of a blue-haired man.

"Can I see?" Chrom asked.

"Be my guest." Sully passed her phone, and Chrom curiously looked through the profile of the guy, and was relatively surprised.

He actually _knew_ this Virion Rosanne, or at least recognized him. But that's only because he's had some minor roles in some of the shows his sisters really liked, and he was subsequently forced to watch snippets of here and there… According to Lissa, he was also a famous theatre star before he started dabbling in television.

"You're sure this is the guy?" Chrom asked. "You just… met him on the streets? _Introduced_ yourself?"

"No way!" Sully snapped, taking her phone back. "Ugh, it's a long story… Basically, I was walking back from the gym late 'cause some of the morons I was training wanted extra tips, and some assholes decided to try to mug me. Next thing I know, prissyboy here is trying to come to my rescue-"

Chrom couldn't help but snort back a laugh. Sully grinned.

"I know, right?" Sully crossed her arms, leaning back in her seat. "Real _production_ this idiot put on. Some grand vision of grandeur he had… Anyways, _I_ ended up saving _his_ ass after the muggers gave him a bloody nose, and he asked me what my name was. I didn't really think anything of it, but he made an honest attempt, so I humored him. However, I don't know _how_ he found my Echoes profile, so I'm kinda weirded out."

"Were you wearing anything that might've given out some information about you?" Chrom asked. Sully shrugged.

"Standard hoodie and shorts, nothing to-" she cut herself off, eyes widening in realization. Running a hand down her face, she groaned. "Damn. My towel."

"Your towel?"

"Yeah," Sully's eyebrow twitched. "I guess I _was_ wearing some identifying stuff. My bag was from the gym I work at and the towel I gave him to clean up his face had the university logo on it. I'm a part of the textbook exchange group for our uni and I advertise being a trainer at the gym. How many Sully's do you think exist that both work at the Ylissetol branch of Eye of Python gym and attends Shield of Flames Uni?"

"So… Why is he a weirdo?"

"I don't know, he's just strange! Like, he was so overdramatic and overconfident…" Sully groaned. "He was just annoying. Weird."

"... What was your opinion of me when we were first introduced?"

"No." Sully slammed her hands on the table. "This has nothing to do with-"

" _Sully_."

Sully sat back, glowering, and Chrom smiled.

In truth, he, Sumia, and Sully had been friends since they were kids, mostly due to business connections of their parents and such. Chrom had been desperate for friends, any friends, when he was little.

But in truth, Sully wanted nothing to do with the royal family while Sumia tended to timidly stick to him. Sully's parents, her father an acclaimed general and her mother a nationally famous wedding planner, often met with his father when he was young for political and business reasons. While Sully's brothers kept a respectful air and distance from him and his siblings, Sully all but rudely ignored him. He remembered the conversation like it was yesterday…

" _You think that I'm gonna be friends with some rich brat? The only friends I have are those who know the difference between a choke hold and a scissor hold, as well as how to get outta both of 'em!"_

" _I know them both, actually! Frederick taught me!"_

" _Oh yeah?!"_

" _Yeah!"_

" _Guys, please-!"_

Next thing their parents knew, he and Sully were wrestling on the floor while Sumia sat in the corner, crying for them to stop. In truth, Chrom was fairly certain that Sully's mother had an aneurysm during the whole ordeal…

Eventually, the trio began to play together on a regular basis, from games as simple as recreating fairy tales to as insane as close-contact daisy chain making.

Sully continued talking as Chrom's gaze drifted behind the redhead, trying to suppress his humored smirk. There, at the end of the diner, in full view of anyone who has decent vision, was a man wearing a trench coat, sunglasses, and a fedora.

… Needless to say, it had to be one of the worst disguises Chrom had ever seen Frederick take. He seriously looked like a detective out of a 1940's drama… Wasn't he supposed to be incognito with stuff like this?

Chrom has been aware since he started university that Frederick had been following him. He would spot Frederick's car in the parking lot of whatever building his class was in, spot him on a bench out of the corner of his eye, see him hanging close, but not too close to look like a stalker…

Truthfully, Chrom knew he was only doing this because of how open Shield of Flames was as a campus. Iris Academy was pretty strict with who came in and out, along with a reputable security team. No doubt Frederick was allowing Lissa bit more freedom due to her protection being almost guaranteed there…

But sooner or later, Chrom was going to have to confront Frederick about this before it got out of hand, as it often did when Frederick the Wary set his mind on something.

"... Seriously, though," Sully's voice brought him back to the conversation. She was staring at her phone with a disgruntled look on his face. "Should I block him or what?"

"Well…" Chrom trailed off. "I mean, he doesn't _seem_ like a bad guy. I mean, he tried to help you out, right? He can't be all bad. Plus..." he lowered his voice to a whisper, as he knew Sully was sensitive to the following topic. "Your attitude tends to… off put potential friends. I'm not saying meet this guy for drinks or whatever, but just try talking to him. The worst that could happen is he _does_ turn out to be dangerous… And since when did you fear risk and danger, Sully?"

"... Fine, I get your point." Sully groaned. "I'll add him… But if he starts being crazy, you better _expect_ me to get your stalker over there to do something about it."

"My stalk-"

"What, you didn't think I wouldn't notice Frederick over there?" Sully chuckled under her breath. "I wasn't certain of it at first, but it's kinda obvious now. Tell him to try being a little more subtle, yeah?"

"... Yeah." Chrom said, subtly pulling out his phone and sending a quick text to Frederick.

 _Sully noticed you. Might be best for you to abort mission, Frederick._

Soon after, Frederick rushed from the diner, leaving a bill under his coffee cup.

o.0.o.0.o

Nowi meekly knocked against the locker.

"Is anyone out there?" she called out meekly.

It was pointless, however. Everyone who passed knew that she was trapped in this locker, and it looked like she got stuck in here on a bad day. Not one teacher has passed by and heard her. And now her entire voice went hoarse and she was _starving._ Not even Ricken…

Honestly, she wondered if she was naive in thinking that things would still be somewhat the same. Back in middle school, things weren't so bad. Groups were less about money and more about looks, so with her and Ricken being the shortest kids in the class, they were kind of forced into a little group. But suddenly Ricken and her went from somewhat communicating with her to… to _this._ To ignoring her and refusing to look her in the eye and refusing to help her…

She scrubbed at the tears in her eyes. Gregor worked hard to make sure she got a good education. She had to remember that she was here because Gregor worked hard every day to put her here, not so she could fit into some social group. So she wasn't going to cry. Even if she was in private, she wasn't going to let those _jerks_ begin to believe they've gotten an upper hand over her. They had so many better things in life, they weren't gonna get that satisfaction.

But event still, she was starting to feel panicked. Nowi was never a fan of small enclosed spaces, especially those that she was unable to get out of.

Inhaling sharply, she squeezed her eyes shut to calm her nerves. Even if she was small now… Even if she wasn't rich right now, one day she would be! And one day, she'd be so respected and loved that random jerks wouldn't shove her in lockers because of it! She may be a mooch now… But one day all those rich kids will be on her doorstep asking for a deal or buying stocks in her company!

And she'd make sure they knew, too…

Especially, Ricken, the backstabber! He was shorter than her in middle school and now that he gained a few inches in height, he suddenly felt superior to her?! Even if she… Even if she wasn't from a prosperous, influential family like he was…

Recalling the warm happiness that she felt from Ricken's family when she visited for a minor group project, Nowi felt the tears gather again. It wasn't fair. It's not fair! Not fair that all these jerks have parents that really care for them and will get them anything they want and they don't have a thing to worry about… Whereas she worried endlessly about Gregor's age and how much he struggles to provide her with everything she could have wanted.

She let out a yelp as someone suddenly slammed into the locker, followed by the tearing of cloth. Trembling, she feared that the bullies had come back for another round of terrorizing, when suddenly-

"Could ya at least go around me?!" a voice with a slight tilt to it… Some sort of accent. Certainly not like those who spoke in the area, or even from around this city. "Ugh… Tore this jacket too… Maybe I could get Ella to fix it up…?"

"Hey!" Nowi decided to take her chances and pounding both her fists against her locker with renewed vigor. Fate was on her side today, someone _had_ come…! "Please, I don't know how long I've been in here for, but I need someone to get me out!"

"Heya… Heya, calm down a second, miss." the boy sounded perplexed as he spoke. "Uh, so… How do I know the combination for these fancy things?"

"Oh…" Nowi felt her heart shrivel for a moment, then she heard a huff of frustration.

"Ya know what, nevermind, I've gotta better solution."

With that, she heard something shove against the lock, and then, the door swung open. Nowi wasn't sure how he opened the lock, but when the light hit her eyes, she saw her hero; a young man with purplish brown hair, wearing a ballcap with a simple backpack over his shoulder and a thin textbook in his other hand.

"Ya alright, miss?" he asked, offering a hand to pull her out. About ready to cry, she threw herself into his arms. "Whoa, hey… Hey, c'mon, don't cry…"

"I thought I was gonna be in there until the janitors came!" Nowi found herself blubbering.

"Well, yer not in there no more." he spoke comfortingly, patting her on the head. "So no more worries! My name is Donny, if yer wonderin'. Do you mind tellin' me why you were in a locker?"

"Um, I'm Nowi, if you haven't heard yet." Nowi offered, stepping back and crossing her arm behind her back. "And the reason I was in that locker, well…" clenching her fists and feeling her temple throb with anger. "A bunch of jerks decided to shove me in there! Nobody would let me out! Plus they took my…"

She trailed off, horror washing over her. Her bag! Her bag had most everything that was important to her in it and if she heard right-!

"Oh…" Nowi was deflated when she sprinted towards the trashcan. It was piled high with a variety of different waste. Discarded food, tossed aside tests, leaking cans and bottles… And if she was shoved in there this morning, her bag was at the bottom.

Clenching her fists tightly, she unbuttoned her jacket and slid off her tie.

"Hey, what're you-"

"Hold my stuff," Nowi tossed the two articles of clothing. "They threw my bag in there and I guess the trash got piled up on top of it, so I'm going in!"

She gripped the edge of the trash can, shuddering at trying to think of an explanation for trash filled clothes, when suddenly…

"H-Hold on!" Donnel suddenly gripped her shoulder, tearing her back. "What's that?"

Nowi looked up and saw him pointing at a lone, sad strap next to the trash bag. Recognizing the glimmer of a familiar keychain, she let out an elated squeal.

"My bag!" she held it at arms length like a long lost friend, practically crying. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I promise I'll fight harder to keep you next time!"

"... So what'd ya ever do to make a bunch of jerks shove ya in a locker?" Donnel asked, holding out her jacket and tie. Nowi was quiet, staring at him with a long look of confusion.

"I never did anything." Nowi stood with a sigh. "I don't know where you're from, Donny, but here, the social ladder is based on how much money our families have. But then again, I guess it's like that everywhere. There's some sort of social standing, somewhere…"

"Not really." Donnel answered immediately. "In my old town, it was a small farming town. Us kids were supposed to look out for each other, 'cause our parents would have us helping each other in the fields. We were like one big 'ole family back home."

"... Wow…" Nowi whispered out awestruck, averting her gaze for a moment. "So… You're Mr. Exalted Pass, huh?"

"Eh?" Donnel cocked his head in confusion. "If yer talkin' 'bout the reward that Lady Emmeryn gave me…"

"I see now." Nowi nodded once, then stuck a finger under Donnel's nose. "Then listen up, Mr. Exalted Pass, 'cause Nowi is gonna give you some useful advice! In this school, we don't measure each other up based on things like cliques, clubs, or fashion! Here, all that matters is money! Most everyone here has it, you couldn't afford to go here otherwise. No one will bother you if you have one of them because their parents will cut off their monthly allowance if they make a scene with other rich people's kids."

"But you were-" Donnel began before Nowi pinched his nose, cutting him off from surprise.

"It's because _I'm_ not rich." Nowi spoke simply. Rubbing his nose once she released it, Donnel glanced her over again. "It's… My family's complicated, but for the past couple years, Gregor has been taking care of me! I'm here half on scholarship and half on his money. Gregor really values education… And arguably, this place does have the best opportunities for me academically."

Exhaling, she looked Donnel in the eye as she spoke her next words.

"Scholarship students or students from families who are middle or lower class aren't appreciated here. We're viewed as dirty, mooching off of the government system… Hence our nicknames, 'mooches'. I just get targeted like this because I'm small and I fight back. They get a kick outta picking on me… But that's fine!" she smiled despite herself. "It means they won't bother anyone else… Like you, right?"

"L-Like me?" Donnel pointed to himself. "But I never did nothin'!"

"Oh yes you did." Nowi whispered. "... _Mr. Exalted Pass._ "

Donnel was quiet for a moment as they reached the gate between the school and the outside sidewalk.

"That's just awful." he spoke. Nowi shrugged, but then, Donnel said something that surprised her. "But… It don't mean ya've gotta do this all by yer lonesome! If we're both 'mooches' then we'll stick this out together!"

"Really?!" Now blurted out. "But you're a junior and I'm a freshman, it would look really bad on you!"

"I don't care." Donnel stared at her with a look of determination as she simply gaped at him. Reaching into a bookbag, he brought out a notebook and a pen. "Ya said that a Gregor is takin' care of ya? My sis owns the theatre across the way, and we're always looking for helping hands. Come by and hang out, I'm always usually helping her out if you're looking for me."

Tearing out the piece of paper, he passed it to her. As she hesitantly took it, a pickup truck pulled up next to them.

"Also, text that number if you need help. I'll come runnin'! This is my ride!"

Politely tipping his cap, Donny turned and hopping in the front seat.

As the truck pulled away, Nowi stared down at the piece of paper in her hand. Did she… just get a guy's phone number? What did she even… How did that even just happen?! No, she already knew the answer to that, she just witnessed it, but… but…!

"Oh my gosh, I can't tell Gregor about this, he'll get all overprotective and scary again. B-But I don't know how to go about- Cherche! I could ask her, but Donnel said his sister owns the theatre that she works at…!"

As she felt her emotions and the events that transpired overwhelm her, the sudden screech of tires caught her attention. She turned, and there, whipping around the corner, was the same pickup truck that had gotten Donnel. Nowi opened her mouth in shock as it came to a screeching halt in front of her, the windows on the passenger side suddenly rolling down.

"Ella please, sto-"

Donnel's voice was cut off as his head was suddenly shoved down with the overwhelming force that was ultimately nothing more than a notebook held between a set of slim, pale hands. Nowi cocked her head slightly, squinting her eyes to make out the text.

"Would. You. Like. A. Ride. To. The. Diner…" she read slowly, making sure to underline each word with her finger. Ella finally removed her notepad from it's perch, smiling brightly at Nowi. Donnel meekly lifted his head, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Then, smiling brightly, Nowi smiled.

"Sure!"

o.0.o.0.o

Cordelia stared up at the stars on the rooftop of her dorm. Though she wasn't supposed to technically be here, she needed a chance to escape the small little dormroom that she currently felt trapped in.

In every aspect of her life, Cordelia had _succeeded._ She was not from a particularly prosperous or impressive family, just a small little family a couple towns over. Her father owned a small lumbering business that sold seasonal flowers, plants, and trees depending on the occasion, while her mother worked as a teacher. Since her father needed as much help as he could get with the business and the vast expanse of flowers and trees, she was not an only child. In fact, she was the youngest of _seven,_ and evidently, the one whom their parents put their highest expectations on.

It didn't matter what Cordelia tried or attempted to do. She excelled at it all. Academics, sports, work, even her own beauty seemed to surpass what was deemed normal in the little town. Though she was sung many praises, she tried to not let it all go to her head too quickly. After all, her siblings were quick to bring her back to earth if she started getting a little too arrogant.

So it didn't come as a surprise to most of the townspeople that, when she graduated high school and applied to Shield of Flames, she not only got accepted, but practically got a free ride. What did surprise her family, however, was when a woman by the name of Phila Shore appeared on her doorstep _just_ as she was entering high school.

Claiming to be a private doctor employed by a very prestigious family, Phila spoke as if she knew her unsettlingly well. The woman promised that she would cover any expenses for schooling, so long as she became her apprentice. Cordelia remembered the call like it was yesterday, as vivid as ever. In her town, she had never seen such a woman, a woman so cleanly dressed and nicely put together, radiating beauty and confidence. Don't get her wrong, there's was something beautiful about the pure nature in her little hometown, along with the purity of it's people's hearts and minds. However, it wasn't compared to the _demand for attention_ that Phila apparently had.

Cordelia very badly wanted to be like Phila, though… A part of her was afraid. She had been teased before for kissing up to teachers and coaches, relentlessly pushed around in middle school for the most miniscule things from her peers. She did not want others to think that she had again manipulated some imaginary system, so she decline the offer to be tutored by Phila… in person, at least. Phila had later worked out a deal where she would help Cordelia thrive via online courses and video chat, eventually leading up to Cordelia wanting to become a doctor, just like her.

To become a strong, beautiful doctor just like Phila had, specifically going out and searching for talented youth and igniting their passion in education… _That_ is what Cordelia prayed to become a fraction of. However, it was becoming harder and harder to ignite the passion of others when her coursework was getting harder and harder, and she seemed to just keep falling behind.

Her first year was grueling, to say the least. But while some of the students seemed to be doing okay, Cordelia herself was struggling to memorize basic medical terminology. And it wasn't as if her intellectual genius was starting to fail her now; she was still breezing through her pre-requisite classes with flying colors, but her medical courses… It was almost as if her brain had somehow formed a _natural blockade_ to the information.

And so, to escape the room, to escape her own mind berating itself for it's incapabilities, she exited onto the fire escape, and instead of climbing down, she climbed up until she hit a landing. There, she just stared at the stars, allowing the cool breeze to embrace her. The air here was nothing like it was at home, like the city lights made the sky duller, sadder… less pure.

As she noted this, filed and tucked away in the back of her mind, Cordelia heard the sound of cellophane crinkling. Jolting, her eyes scanned the rooftop, overlooking where the sound could have come from, only to see it came from a duffle bag unceremoniously tossed up onto the roof. She neared it slowly, curiously, only to again startle back when a hand suddenly shot up, followed by an arm and the rest of the body.

"Stahl!" she exclaimed, placing a hand over her racing heart with hopes to calm it. "Why on earth… What are you _doing?"_

"Cordelia?" Stahl blinked at her, then grinned a calm, easygoing smile. "Oh, hello. Good thing you said something, otherwise, I would've been in for a good scare!"

"That didn't answer my question." Cordelia responded. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, well," Stahl walked closer to her and dropped the bag, opening it. Inside, Cordelia saw a plethora of snacks, as well as his laptop and a few textbooks. "See, my roommates are great, but they're not exactly _fun_ to study around."

"You got a bad draw in roommates?" Cordelia cocked her head.

"Something like that." Stahl had a strained grin as he lifted his head again. "They're not bad people… Just… one's a drama major, so everything tends to be _a production._ The other is into music, so he's always blasting it, and the fourth is just a really loud snorer."

"And let me guess, he's sharing the room with you?"

"No." Stahl spoke bluntly. "He's just _that loud."_

"Oh." Cordelia swallowed awkwardly. "Then I won't disturb you, then, if you're so desperate that you climbed on the roof…"

"Nah, it's fine." Stahl ripped open a bag of cookies, offering one to her. "Eat a snack and sit down. What're you doing up here? No offense or nothing, but we're not supposed to be up here… And you kinda don't break rules!"

"I just needed a place to escape, in private." Cordelia sighed. "A break from studying."

"Oh, tell me about it!" Stahl laughed. "Man, have you ever tried to memorize medical terms when you've got a freight-train snorer in your apartment? It's awful."

"You're having trouble?" Cordelia cocked her head, finding perhaps a bit of comfort in the fact that she wasn't the only one struggling with all of this. Stahl chuckled, then shook his head.

"Oh, not at all. Both my dad and my brother work in the pharmacy business, and I'm following suit. So they've already given me all the tips and tricks for memorizing them."

Cordelia, for a moment, felt her hopes get dashed a little. Even Stahl was understanding this? Not that she was bragging or anything, but she always thought that she would excell far past most of her friends when it came to school. Stahl was… Stahl was very average, in everything except his appetite.

"It'll be easier to show you than to explain, to be honest." Stahl pushed the cookies into her lap and pulled out his laptop. "C'mon, sit down, I'll show you."

Slowly kneeling beside him, Cordelia peered over his shoulder as he pulled up a powerpoint image on his laptop. Clicking a certain slide, she was greeted with a cartoonish rendition of a truck.

"Okay, so take for instance, how 'gastr' means stomach." he glanced at her to make sure that she was paying attention. "So, in order to remember it, you replace the gas tank on the image with an image of a stomach."

Stahl explained as he tapped a key again. This time, the gas tank was changed to a stomach. It was a fairly strange image.

"And remembering that image will help you remember the term." Stahl smiled. "So, to remember it, I say "'gastr', gas truck, stomach." And I remember."

"That really works?" Cordelia asked, surprised.

"Yeah, it does." Stahl nodded with a grin. "Wanna try another one?"

"Alright…" Cordelia nodded.

"Alright, try this then." Stahl smiled as he changed the slide. "Let's try the term 'cardi' next. Now, 'cardi' sounds like the word 'cards'."

"Okay…" Cordelia nodded as an image of two people holding cards appeared below the word at Stahl's tap.

"So, 'cardi' means heart and this is the image we get as a result." Stahl said as he tapped a key once again. The cards suddenly were replaced with realistic cartoon hearts, not the Valentine's ones Cordelia expected. "And with this, the order is 'cardi', cards, heart."

"And this really helps?" Cordelia asked in disbelief.

"Let's see." Stahl grinned. "What does 'gastr' mean?"

Cordelia opened her mouth, immediately wanting to say gallbladder, but stopped herself as she rethought what Stahl had just taught her. Exhaling the horror that overcame her, she opened her mouth and spoke.

"Stomach."

"See? You did it!" Stahl grinned. Cordelia smiled, hoping to keep up with his attitude.

"Stahl, that was amazing!" Cordelia grinned brightly at him. "I can't seem to remember any of these terms for the life of me. Would you help me? I'd pay you for tutoring me."

"Hey, now, there's no need to pay me!" Stahl protested. "I'd be happy to help you for free, you're my _friend_ , Cordelia."

"Well, thank you."

Cordelia stood, smiling down at him.

"I won't bother you here, then, if you're trying to get some studying done. Thank you for your help," she held out the cookies with a smile. "And the cookies."

"Hey, anytime." Stahl grinned, taking the package from her. "Careful climbing down, okay?"

"I will." Cordelia smiled, turning back to the fire escape.

As she began to climb back to her room, however, a sad, depressing feeling slowly washed over her. She was sincerely nervous that she may had accidentally taught herself all the terms wrong… And now she was going to have to unwravel that and try to relearn it before the first test.

o.0.o.0.o

 **Hello everyone! Now, before I discuss this chapter with you all...**

 ***fireworks explode and confetti rains down from the air***

 **Happy birthday Amy47101!** **I've been planning this since we began working on ideas for VAU together and I'm glad I was able to keep it a surprise from you! This chapter is my return gift to you for posting the last chapter of Unbreakable Ties on my birthday!**

 **To the rest of you, here's how VAU came to be as an explanation: Amy coincidentally updated UT on my birthday this year and, once I told her this fact, promised to always update it, or at least try, on my birthday from now on. I thought that was so sweet that I said, in return, that I would write a Fire Emblem story, since that was the fandom that tied us to each other in the first place, and update it every year on her birthday as well. Once I figured out what kind of story I wanted to do, I started explaining it to Amy, because she was curious. In the end, she volunteered to help me write it and, ever since then, we've become partners! This story would not be what it is without her and I am eternally grateful to have met her in the first place. Thank you so much, Amy, I hope you enjoyed your surprise!**

 **Now, onto the chapter!**

 **There are a few hints in here of another FE game being involved in this story, lets see if you all can figure out what game they're from or even who the newest character in this story is. As an explanation, Echoes of Voices is our version of Facebook.**

 **And the scene at the end with Cordelia and Stahl. That method of memorizing medical terminology was a method a teacher used in a class for me once. I learned and memorized about 300 medical terms that way, and once you know the basics it's easier to work out what the ones you don't know mean. The method really works, 'gastr, gastruck, stomach' was actually the first one we ever learned so it's stuck with me, and I thought it'd be a nice twist to our planned arc with Cordelia and Stahl.**

 **Okay, that's all for that.**

 **Thank you to Amy47101 (Sure, 99 and a half, sure, I believe you...*sarcastically nods sagely*) for reviewing along with all 7 followers, 4 favorites and all 290 readers!**

 **Some of you may have noticed the change in main characters. This was simply a decision Amy and I agreed on for the story. Robin, or in this story Rosalie, will not be appearing for a bit yet, but she _is_ extremely important, so I think it's fair to include her and Chrom as main characters.**

 **Okay, I think I've talked your guys ears off enough now. *sheepish smile* Please leave a review to let us know what you think! See you later!**


	5. Chapter 5:White Clover

o.0.o.0.o

Chrom let out a long exhale as he approached Frederick's office. He wasn't sure how to describe this feeling right now, but it almost felt like he was about to scold one of his parents. Like when a parent is trying their best to encourage their kid, but subsequently embarrases them without intending to…and not understanding how they're embarrassing.

Frederick had always been around in his life. Ever since his parents had passed and Emmeryn took the throne, Frederick was simply _there._ At first he was just something akin to a tutor, but as Chrom grew older, he began to realize that Frederick wasn't _exactly_ a tutor, so to speak.

"Frederick, we need to talk."

He opened the door unannounced, causing Frederick to quickly close out of whatever he was looking at on his computer. Truth be told, Chrom figured out a long time ago that Frederick was something like a bodyguard to himself and his sisters. Why Frederick was being so secretive about it, he didn't know, but at a certain point it went from him doing his job well to just being downright stalkerish.

"Chrom," Frederick greeted him. "What can I do for you today?"

"This whole following me around thing needs to stop." Chrom spoke, deciding to address the situation as bluntly as possible, seeing as Frederick was not the type to dance around words. "Like, I understand you're trying to keep my safe and all that, but you also need to understand-"

"You noticed me?"

"... _Yes."_ Chrom affirmed. "Sully did as well."

" _Sully_ noticed me?!"

"No offense Frederick, but a trench coat, fedora, and sunglasses doesn't exactly make you subtle." Chrom spoke sharply, meeting his gaze. "I understand that you're just trying to do your job as a bodyguard or whatever, but can you do it in a less attention grabbing way? And maybe in a less stalkerish way as well?"

"Well… what do you think I should do, then, if my current methods are lackluster?"

"I don't know, enroll as a student, become a waiter at the diner, I mean, even becoming my professor is better than stalking me." he said that as a joke to lighten the mood, hoping that Frederick wouldn't take his advice literally. "But seriously, I'm an adult, I don't need you following me around."

"You may be an adult, Chrom, but you are a very important adult." Frederick folded his hands like he was about to begin a lecture. "But I understand your point of view. I will take into consideration some more… subtle forms of ensuring your protection."

Chrom, with all due honesty, was surprised by his willing agreement. Typically, Frederick would always stubbornly insist on how what he was doing was best for the crown… Mostly with a surprising air of innocence that made it very difficult to argue without looking like the bad guy.

"Seriously, thank you for being so understanding." Chrom sighed in relief. "Because at this point, literally _anything_ is better than the stalker thing you're doing now."

o.0.o.0.o

Maribelle stared into the mirror in her locker, tucking a stray curl behind her ear before she deposited her purse into the locker. She believed that there was a fine line between being vain and caring about one's appearance. Certainly, given her status, she felt she belonged to the latter half of that group.

Her family, based on what she has been told, was descended from a long line of nobility and riches. Each subsequent generation of Themises took their wealth and power, and extended it over and over again. Soon, what was once a small village of land evolved into a near empire… As well as each subsequent business that was opened.

So, with all due terms, she was technically a lady of the House of Themis, even if the title is rarely used anymore, and she was known more as "Governor Hemingway Themis' daughter".

Which is why the idea of keeping up appearances was so important to her. A value instilled in her by her father, she always did her best to look good, act accordingly, and simply be the best heiress she could be. She had great pride not only in her family, but the history _of_ her family. She was very careful about how she looked, very careful about who she hung out with, very careful with her appearance overall, so not to shame her family or her ancestors. Which was why…

"Say, have you heard about that new sophomore?"

"Which one? The country hick?"

"No, the other one. The blond girl."

"Oh, yeah, pigtails. Her name is Alissa Juno, she's in my chemistry class."

"Yeah, soooo… Ever heard the name 'Juno' before?"

"Not really. Every time I google it or her, for the matter, I get nothing."

This _incessant_ gossiping about her dear Lissa was starting to really _annoy_ her.

Since Lissa began school, the rumors surrounding her origins have been incessant. Who was she? Where did she come from? What company did her parents run? No one really knew, mostly because 'Alissa Juno' was a pseudonym, a fake name to cover up the true treasure among them.

But…

"I heard that she was hanging around that Tinhead kid the first day."

" _Please,_ I heard she was actually talking to him _in public."_

" _Seriously?!"_

"Seriously. Like, walking into some diner across the way from that theatre, and plain _talking_ to him."

"Maybe she really is a mooch like him… What with a hairstyle like that, I wouldn't be surprised!"

"Tell me about it! She looks like she came from some poor house! Who even wears pigtails like that at this age? What is she, two?"

The girls let out cackles of laughter. The most recent rumor the student body have been humoring is that Emmeryn's contest didn't just accept one student, it accepted two; a boy and a girl. That Tinhead boy was one candidate, while Lissa was thought to be the other.

"But even better… Maribelle Themis was seen walking into the diner _with her."_

Maribelle gripped her locker door a little tighter than necessary. Adjusting the door slightly, she angled the mirror to get a glimpse of such audacious gossipers. She didn't even recognize these girls faces… Which surprised her. She knew mostly everyone who was anyone in this school through company and government functions she's attended with her parents. If she didn't recognize these girls, then they, simply, weren't of that much importance… They weren't even in the same _class_ as she was. And yet...

"You know, I've noticed she's been really chummy with Maribelle and Ricken lately."

"... Wasn't there a rumor or something that that Ricken boy was, like, _super_ close to that Nowi mooch? Like, back in middle school or something?"

"Oh my!" one girl laughed mockingly. "How far Little Miss Themis has fallen, associating herself with a mooch and someone who sees it fit to hang out with a mooch."

… They must have some _gall_ to think they could speak badly about _her_ or her friends.

"If," she spoke sharply, shutting her locker door with an air of cold calmness. "you are quite done gossiping about me, may I get a word in edgewise?"

A hush fell over the two as she turned to meet them. One of them stood confidently with an arrogant smirk on her face, while the other looked slightly pale, all bravado gone.

"Since you've made yourself quite aware of my name, might I know yours?"

"Of course," the more arrogant of the two smirked down at her. "Alicia Cedillo."

She didn't offer further explanation, as if Maribelle was simply expected to know her name. Suppressing the smirk, this hubris made the blow she was about to deliver all the more satisfying.

"I've never heard of such a name." Maribelle answered coyly. "Now then, you two must be the type to just believe anything you're told. As if I would degrade the Themis household by associating with those who, quote, "mooch" off the government. Rest assured," she eyed them sharply. "neither Ricken _nor_ Alissa are leeching off of the school, the government, or off of me. Now run along, before I decide to mention your name to my father."

The meeker girl immediately turned and almost sprinted she was running so fast. The other girl began to scowl, then she glanced up. Her scowl deepening, she turned on her heel and trailed after her friend.

"Heya, Maribelle!" the cheerful voice echoed in her ears in an almost sing-songy manner. Turning with a calm smile, she responded to Lissa.

"Lissa. How are you today?"

"Fine as can be!" Lissa grinned. "So who were you just talking to? Friends?"

"Oh, no one you need or should concern yourself with, Lissa. Just worthless gossips talking about the scholarship boy."

"Scholarship boy…?" Lissa trailed off, biting her lip. "Oh. You mean Donny, huh?"

Maribelle sighed. It had slipped her mind that Lissa was somewhat… attached to the farmboy.

"Don't worry yourself over it, that's simply how it is, as unfair as it is." Maribelle spoke simply. Deciding to exaggerate the talk, she continued. "After all, this school very rarely allows scholarship students in, let alone a boy from such humble beginnings."

"When you say it like that, you make it sound positive!" Lissa smiled back at her. "Donny sure must be something… I'd bet thousands upon thousands of teenagers applied for the scholarship, but _he_ was chosen!"

That had backfired, unfortunately. She didn't want to disappoint Lissa or anything, but sometimes she still catches Lissa waving at him or smiling at him. One too many things like that, and people really will get the wrong idea… And heaven forbid if Lissa becomes the backlash of rumors here…

"Anyways, I ran into Donny this morning!" Lissa continued, bubbling with happiness. "He said he and his sister are going to be at Gregor's diner again. And good news! So will Chris! So I'm gonna go as well, wanna come?"

Maribelle could feel the irritation pique in the back of her mind. She honestly would rather be anywhere _but_ that grease filled commoner pit, especially if the scholarship boy was going to be there. She didn't want to risk Lissa getting any closer to him, but as she thought about it… Well, if Chrom was going to be there, then it also meant Frederick might not be far behind.

"Yes, of course I'll come."

o.0.o.0.o

"All right! Let's take it from the top again, okay? Okay! Action!"

"Um… Mr. Crow…"

"Nuh-uh, we already discussed this, Olivia! Henry is fine! But right now, I'm not Henry!" shaking the script in his one hand, he smiled brightly. "I'm Detective Brian Kitt right now, so let's get moving!"

"But… But why in your office?"

When Henry had told her they were going to do a rehearsal today, she almost had a panic attack at the very thought at a full cast rehearsal. Even though she had been working with Henry daily on this role, she couldn't help but feel anxious. This was especially so, considering that she still felt she was underqualified for the lead role of Willow, especially in comparison to some clearly more talented actresses…

Sure, it was easy when she was a backup dancer, or she had maybe one line to say as an extra…but being a main, leading woman…she was struggling more than she cared to admit.

"Because this is where we always practice, crazy lady! Anyways," Henry cleared his throat, and plastered on a preppy, feminine voice. "It won't take too long, cross. My. Heart~!"

That last word came out like he was singing the word. holding the note for an extended period of time. Along with the 1920's accent he's adopted with Detective Kit...it seems he's adopted his own interpretation for Tom Yorkey as well…

At some point, she had to wonder if this was some sort of test. Because she was struggling, really, _really_ struggling to not smile. Inhaling and exhaling, trying to shake the idea of the actors dressed as a twenties detective and a valley girl respectively, she fell into her role. There weren't any eyes on her this time. No one was watching or judging, just Henry.

And with the way Henry typically was, it was almost as if she knew he wasn't one to judge.

"Now," Henry adjusted the brim of his fedora, a prop he had found from wherever to help play along with his role. "Tell us what happened the last time ya saw Lea."

"We were in the dressing room backstage." Olivia spoke calmly, slipping into her role. "She came to talk to me about the show, wishing me luck and all that."

"Was anything, like, off about her?" Henry's voice suddenly rose about two octaves, laying on the accent thick. He had removed the hat from his head, now twisting a piece of hair compulsively around his finger. "Like _completely_ different from normaaaaaal?"

"Not that I could tell." Olivia shrugged, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I mean, of course she was a bit on edge, but who isn't when it comes to performing? Even the best gets the nervous, pre-show butterflies."

"And I suppose your big fight two days ago was all, but forgotten," Henry switched tones again. "Yes?"

"We were friends and co-stars, of course we made up."

"Like, I totally see. And I totally get it, girl. But please, you've got to, like, tell us the truth so we can find the killer."

"I don't understand." Olivia shook her head. "Everything I've told you _is_ the truth. I haven't lied, nor do I have the reason to lie."

"Oh really?" Henry suddenly switched back to Brian's role and slammed his fist down on the desk, leaning over it and in her face like the overbearing cop was instructed to do in scrip. "Then how 'bouts an explanation about the strands of _pink hair_ found in the victim's hand?"

"Wh-What?"

"Here's, like, a theory," Henry suddenly settled back. "Maybe you totally killed her… And she grabbed your hair to, like, defend herself."

"I did not kill Lea!" Olivia suddenly exclaimed, standing up and pushing her chair back with such force, it clattered, knocking into an adjacent shelf. With that, Olivia flinched, breaking character as she assessed the damage. "Ah… um… S-Sorry, H-Henry…"

"Sorry?" Henry exclaimed. "Are you kidding, that was perfect! Wonderful! Hexcellent, even!"

"Hexcellent…?" Olivia echoed as she picked up the chair, though Henry didn't seem to hear her.

"Now why can't you do that with everyone else?"

"Oh, um…" Olivia swallowed as she slowly sat back down. "It's just…I don't really know…I-I only ever did m-minor roles…s-so the idea of performing in front of a crowd as a lead role, especially if I don't really deserve it…"

"What?!" Henry suddenly exclaimed. "Oh, no, no, no! Are you really _talon_ me that you have so little faith in yourself? You're not a lost _caws_ Olivia!"

Olivia just stared at him. She was fairly certain he made a joke or a pun in there, but he looked genuinely worried for a second there.

"There's really no need to be so low on yourself." Henry crossed his arms, tapping his fingers against his arm. "I chose you because I thought you would be the best fit for the role…"

He trailed off thoughtfully as Olivia sat in her seat, twiddling her thumbs. He had that much confidence in her? That was…honestly both surprising and touching to her. As well as pressuring. Incredibly pressuring…

"Well, I wouldn't be an acting coach if I didn't coach you along!" Henry laughed. "This was a good session, I think. We'll have to set up a schedule-"

"Schedule?" Olivia echoed.

"Yeah, for acting sessions. 'Cause I'm your coach."

"W-Wait…you… _you were serious about that?"_

"Of course." Henry laughed, eyes sparking as he laughed at her. "Did you forget, crazy lady?"

"N-No, it's just, you're the director and screenwriter, you've gotta have more important things to do than…than to coach me…"

"Nope!" Henry suddenly pressed a finger to her lips, as if a means to quiet her. "We're gonna meet twice a week. And every week, we'll try to get you up on stage so you get comfortable with other people! Once you're done, you'll be the brightest star this theatre…no, _the acting industry_ has ever seen!"

"Uh… B-But…"

"I know being on stage can be scary sometimes," Henry continued with a shrug. "Trying to uphold expectations is very hard. But practice makes perfect is the ideal in this world, and I know you didn't learn to sing and dance like that just by shying away from it."

"Um, you're right, but-but…"

"So if we can expand those skills into acting, I know you'll get a lot more work, which, based on our initial meeting, you wouldn't mind getting, huh? Come on," Henry held out his hand with a smile. "Why don't you trust me this time, and see what happens?"

Olivia, truthfully, was scared to shake his hand. She didn't want to burden Henry, since she clearly wasn't fit for this role in the slightest, but…but she had a point to prove about her career, and she had a reason to make more money. To leave that apartment…to thrive primarily off the theatre…

"Great," Henry smiled as she shook his hand. "I'll see you on Thursday."

o.0.o.0.o

It was quite well known that the more people living in a single abode, the more sustenance was required for those people. With that being established, this fact is proven even more so when a guest is suddenly sprung upon someone else. So it wasn't much of a surprise to Panne when she saw Lon'qu shutting the fridge with a little more force than necessary.

Apparently, they were out of food. On top of this, Lon'qu seemed to be a very studious, routine person who did not like this routine to be disrupted.

"Well, what did you expect?" Panne had demanded while he grumbled, flicking over his calendar. She noticed a couple days marked off with certain color, as if he had memorized some secret code that he was unwilling to share with others. "There are two of us here, of course provisions will run out twice as fast."

The forced living accommodations were icy at best. Lon'qu barely gave her a passing glance, let alone spoke with her, whereas she was quite frustrated with his antics. Panne did not consider herself a particularly social person in the slightest, but she did always have her brothers and her friends to keep her entertained. At least if she wanted to, she could take a brisk walk if she wanted to clear her head, but now, she couldn't even do _that._ Because Lon'qu, ever duty bound despite his complete and utter distaste of her, _would_ follow her. Even if she snuck out, and by god above did she try, Lon'qu always somehow managed to be walking across the street adjacent to her.

He was astute, she would give him that. Annoyingly so, as he had proved time and time again that she wouldn't be escaping her 'protection' so easily.

She pondered her situation as she slathered on foundation to cover her facial tattoos. It was an understandable condition, as anyone who was even slightly involved in the underbelly of Ylisse would understand what those marks were…not to mention she could justify the use of the police-disguise grade makeup by wanting to 'hide her identity'. Strangely enough, it was very easy to manipulate the police when one was a victim…or assumed to be one. Panne herself didn't like to think of herself as such, but that didn't mean she wouldn't manipulate the situation to her advantage.

Once she exited the bathroom, Lon'qu gave her a once over and nodded, then turned and led her towards the door. Per usual, Lon'qu remained as far away from her as possible. deciding to take a few good strides ahead of her in order to lead her to their destination. He didn't say a word or even acknowledge her presence as he led her down the street and into a small Mom and Pop store.

"Go get what you want." Lon'qu muttered gruffly. Panne was surprised by his order, not expecting him to let her wander about freely. However, as soon as she darted down an aisle, she realized why, exactly, he was letting her roam.

"What buffoonery…?" Panne muttered as she pushed some cereal boxes aside, and saw Lon'qu peeking at her through the products. Feeling an eye twitch slightly, Panne brought out her cellphone, courtesy of Flavia, and called Lon'qu.

"Speak."

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked.

"Monitoring you."

"Couldn't you do that by standing next to me?" Panne demanded. "Honestly, I know you have your _issues_ but you might arouse more suspicion-"

Panne blinked her eyes once, slowly pulling the phone from her ear, grinding her teeth. He hung up on her…

Slowly, she continued down the aisle, hearing Lon'qu's footsteps on the other side of the shelf. Then, she paused, turning towards the shelf…then lashed out between the shelves. She heard a yelp as her fingers gripped Lon'qu's nose, yanking him into the cereal and leaning in to get a word with him. His breaths were coming out of his mouth in ragged, panicked spouts, but she held fast.

"Listen here," Panne shot him a cold look. "I understand your job is meant to be discreet, but peeking at a woman through shelves is a _bad_ idea. How long do you plan on acting like a psychotic stalker?"

"Release me!" he whispered harshly. "I plan to do this as long as you are under my protection."

"Really." Panne answered bluntly, not relinquishing her grip

"Yes. And I do not look like a stalker." he seemed flustered now, breathes coming out faster and faster. "Release me."

"Lon'qu." Panne commanded his attention. "You are following me around whenever I leave and peeking at me through aisles. It is _strange._ How many other people do you see talking through the-"

"Ma'am?"

Panne turned to look over her shoulder, and saw a small girl with wavy blond hair wearing a frilly blue dress. She was smiling politely, curiously.

"What're you doing?"

"Nothing." Panne answered. "I'm simply trying to reach something in the-"

She ground her teeth together as she felt teeth clench momentarily around her pinky finger. As soon as she released him, however, he relinquished his bite. However… Had that man really just _bitten_ her?!

"You okay, lady?"

"Fine." Panne growled out. "I think a spider bit me or something…"

"Oh dear!" the little girl exclaimed. "Oh, that's no good! Don't worry, I'll tell my dad and he'll take care of it in a heartbeat!"

The little blond girl then bounded off, and Panne, with renewed vigor, marched around the corner to confront Lon'qu. She wasn't even gripping his nose that hard, he didn't have to bite her!

"Lon'qu-" she growled out, only to cut herself off to see him sitting against the shelf with his hand over his heart, breathing way too fast. He looked way too pale, and his hands were trembling. She paused, knowing and having seen such symptoms before…

"I am asking you," Lon'qu spoke simply. "To go on the other side of the aisle. Please."

Panne slowly exhaled, then turned on her heel and returned to the other aisle. She hadn't thought he was serious when he said he was scared of women. She thought he was being overdramatic at best, sexist at worse. Yet such a touch seemed to elicit a panic attack from him…

However, he seemed to get over it quickly, as he soon stood, and was again speaking to her through the cereal boxes.

"... Don't tell anyone." Lon'qu muttered.

"You're quite the odd man…" Panne responded. As she moved, so did Lon'qu, his eyes never leaving her.

"I'm just trying to do my job." Lon'qu stated. "That is all."

"... Of course." Panne responded. They settled into an uncomfortable silence as they navigated through the aisles, picking up food and provisions that would last them for the week.

Soon, they were ready to leave, with the little blond girl from before yanking open the door and wishing them a good day. This time, Panne led the way back to the apartment with Lon'qu trailing behind her. Whilst walking, Panne was picking up random bits of conversations, as she often did.

"...haven't found her yet…"

"...been over two weeks now!"

"...flash drive has been pinpointed…"

"Good...find it…"

Panne tensed, coming to a full stop, and subtly turned towards the conversation. Her eyes settled on the outdoor tables to an overcrowded cafe. Her eyes flicked over the patrons, though she couldn't point who was having that conversation. Those people...they were talking about her...and they knew where her-

"... What are you doing?" Lon'qu cut into her thoughts, suddenly approaching from her left, while leaving a significant amount of space between them. He glanced up at the establishment, brow furrowed. "You like this place?"

"Not at all." Panne answered, marching forward. "I'm not partial to coffee."

"I see." Lon'qu responded, letting the conversation drop.

They knew where it was. God above they knew where the flash drive was. If they got their hands on it…all their work would have been for nothing! She couldn't let it happen…she wouldn't! But she had no clue where she lost it and hadn't the slightest clue where to look. She was certain she had it while she was running, but she had no clue where and when she lost it…she knew she had it when her feet hit pavement, and then…

"Lon'qu," she turned to him. "... Let's go out to eat."

"What?" Lon'qu asked. "We just bought food, why?"

"Because I'll pay." Panne responded bluntly.

"With what money?"

"Then I'll pay you back." Panne marched forward.

She had to get that flash drive back. Even if she had Lon'qu attached to her hip due to police protection, there was no choice. She'd figure out a way to shake him, a way to get a moment to retrace her steps and obtain that flash drive. That flash drive…

That flash drive was imperative to everything.

o.0.o.0.o

"Now, this next patient suffered from a gunshot wound," Libra explained as he stood at the end of the hall from the patient's room, talking to a couple of nurses. "From what I understand, his family is quite shaken by the events. Supposedly an accident among his friends. Teenagers fooling about with a gun they thought was unloaded, until he accidentally shot himself in the leg. Thankfully, the bullet was removed and didn't seem to cause any permanent damage."

Passing the clipboard to the nurse after his brief summary, he continued.

"I believe it was an accidental shooting. If you could send these medical records to the police, it should prove that it was and they can drop the case."

"Of course, Dr. Scales."

"Oh, and one more thing." Libra spoke before the nurse could leave. "Have you seen Dr. Grimm?"

"No, I haven't." the nurse couldn't suppress her shudder.

"Well, that's no good." Libra murmured, glancing down the hall as the family of the teenage boy came out, crying to the nurse. "She was supposed to work with that family today. A gunshot wound, regardless of how it is received, is extremely traumatizing."

Dr. Tharja Grimm was quite strange in terms of therapists. She shuffled with her head bowed, yet her dress was completely opposite of her personality seemingly… not quite shy, but antisocial personality. She always wore all black, occasionally accenting the black skirt and tights with a colored shirt, almost always dark in color. Her clothes always accentuated her figure, and just her foreign looks alone brought attention to her. Typically, shy, introverted people didn't make a point to dress in a way that brought attention to them. Perhaps she wasn't aware?

He wondered if he had somehow offended her on that first day. He wasn't certain on Plegian culture, but surely a handshake wasn't wrong, was it? If it was, she wouldn't have shaken his hand…

He also wondered if she had her own medical troubles. After all, the minute she gripped his hand, her hand immediately tightened and her eyes flew wide, and she began trembling. A panic attack? A seizure? Possibly an epileptic disorder?

He didn't know. Ever since that woman, Panne, had left their care and went into Witness Protection, Tharja seemed to make a point to avoid him. Of course, he was glad to not have to see, nor did he want to see, a hurt patient under similar circumstances, but still…with him being a head doctor of the ICU and her being a twenty four seven trauma therapist, them not communicating would soon become detrimental to the patients here.

"Dr. Scales, are you quite sure about her? She's so creepy…" The nurse's voice cut his thoughts off. Slowly, he brought his gaze back to her. "She might cause _more_ trauma to the patient…"

"Don't spread such rumors." Libra scolded. "Dr. Grimm has become quite successful. She wouldn't be such a success if she had traumatized her patients further."

"I…I suppose."

"Yes. Now, then." Libra smiled at her. "Please, get those notes to the call center, and advise them to call the detective investigating the case," he pulled the business card from his pocket. "They should have interviewed the family and friends already. Tell them the injuries line up with an accidental gunshot."

"Understood, Dr. Scales!" the nurse chirped, dashing off. Libra turned, about to go check up on another patient, when his pager went off. Pausing, he glanced down at it, furrowing his brow. The information desk? How odd.

Typically, he wasn't one to be called to the information desk. That was reserved for nurses doing rounds if they really needed to talk to a medical professional. Even still, he knew the receptionists there were extremely capable of answering all, if any, questions.

Briefly he panicked. Was there an injury? Many elderly patients visited the hospital to visit their loved ones, it was a natural part of working in the medical field. Hurrying, slightly panicking due to the idea of a poor grandmother suffering from a heart attack, he turned the corner and shortened his slight sprint to quick strides.

His eyes quickly flitted over the waiting room. No one seemed to be suffering or in pain, and there was a lack of panic in the room.

Thanking the heavens, he adjusted his tie and strode to the information desk.

"Hello," he greeted the receptionist, who smiled politely in response. "You paged me for assistance?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Scales, but this young woman," she nodded towards the waiting area. "Claims to know the Royal Physician and was personally asking for you."

"Young woman?" Libra echoed.

"The redhead. You honestly can't miss her."

Libra nodded again, turning to the waiting room. Immediately, she saw a young woman with bright, long red hair. Strangely enough, she had a couple of cube block built sticks in her hands, and was tapping them against the table while children surrounded her. Connecting two and two, Libra realized she was using the handmade "drumsticks" to teach a simple children's song to the kids, who was singing to the beat. He waited politely for her to finish the song, then cut in as the children cheered.

"Miss?" he asked. She glanced up with a smile. "I'm Doctor Libra Scales. I'm aware that you wished to speak to me?"

"Oh, yes!" she stood, passing the drumsticks to the oldest child, who tried to repeat her teachings. Turning back to the children, she smiled. "Excuse me!"

Leading him a little ways from the happy children, she continued.

"Okay, so my name is Cordelia Faulkner." she smiled, holding out her hand to shake his. "Phila's like a mentor to me, and she spoke quite highly of you."

"Ah, yes. Dr. Shore mentored me once upon a time." Libra smiled. "She was quite a hard woman to please, but it made me a better doctor in the end."

"Oh, I'm sure!" Cordelia smiled. "But being a woman in such a stressful field must be difficult. I'm sure she was only preparing you for your life ahead!"

"Excuse me, Cordelia, but I am a man." the correction slipped off his tongue like any other day. Immediately, he expected her reaction.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she began to frantically apologize, looking as if she was about to kick herself before she even began.

"Don't worry about it." Libra waved his hand through the air, smiling serenely. "It happens all the time. Daily, in fact. How can I assist you today?"

"Well, I go to Shield of Flames University, and we plan on holding quite an extensive career festival in a couple of week from now. This festival is meant to also show off our campus and our degree programs, and we wanted to get some alumni to represent certain stands."

"A festival, you say? What will happen at this festival?"

"Oh, basic college campus tour stuff." Cordelia explained. "Students will visit and you will be at stands in order to describe your careers and your experience at Shield of Flames. This way, prospective students from across the country, including from Iris Academy, can get the full experience and success of what it means to be both a student and a graduate from SoF. Phila recommended you for the medical half and another woman for the psychological half. I tried asking for her name, but apparently she wasn't here. Anyways, I figured, since Phila said you both were so successful with the patients, that you would work perfectly."

"I see," Libra gestured for her to follow them back to the information desk. Smiling at the receptionist, he continued where he left off. "Listen. Cordelia here would like me and the recommended therapist to volunteer at an alumni-student event at Shield of Flames University. Could you forward an email to the board so we can get…"

He trailed off, glancing at Cordelia.

"What day, Cordelia?"

"Oh! Two Fridays from now." Cordelia answered. "It's from eleven to four. These," Cordelia pulled up an email on her phone, showing it to the receptionist. "Are the two people Doctor Phila Shore recommended for the event."

"I see…" the receptionist's gaze flicked to the phone, then back to Libra.

"I'll make the executive decision for the therapist, if you will." Libra spoke. "I'd like you to request that date and time off, for the event."

"Of course, Dr. Scales." the receptionist smiled respectfully, then continued on with writing the email.

"Thank you very much, Dr. Scales!" Cordelia exclaimed thankfully. "I'm sorry for the drop and run, but I have a shift starting in about fifteen minutes."

"It's my pleasure, Miss."

"Again, thank you!"

Then, the redhead dashed out the door, waving over her shoulder as she left. Libra in return, offered a goodbye wave as well. Feeling his pager buzz yet again, he cast it a fleeting glance, knowing he was being summoned back to his department.

"Thank you for your help."

"Anytime." the receptionist smiled.

Libra offered a smile in return, then began to rush back to the ICU. Certainly, he figured, the therapist Phila recommended must be a loving, gentle, calming woman if she not only graduated from Shield of Flames, but also got Phila's recommendation. He hoped the board would let them off for the day, if not to go see his old school, but to meet this no doubt brilliant woman.

o.0.o.0.o

 **Hello everyone! It's been a bit since this story has been updated, hasn't it? Sorry bout that, Amy and I got swamped with school for a while, we've been working on this chapter scene by scene for months now! But it's done, and I'm happy with how it turned out!**

 **Anyway, thanks to Maetrix (Our first ever review that wasn't Amy! Haha, I hope you continue reading and reviewing, cause we've got quite a few plans in store ;)) and Amy (I'm always here for you, you know that!) for reviewing, all 11 followers, 7 favorites and 673 readers!**

 **Now, as for this chapter. The reference in Henry and Olivia's scene this time, well the new one, is Tom Yorkey, who is a reference to Brian Yorkey and Tom Kitt, once again.**

 **In Panne and Lon'qu's scene, the little girl is a reference to another FE character. I dunno if anyone will get it, but it's definitely a hint of our plans with this universe (yes, you read that right: universe. We're ambitious XD)**

 **Let's see...anything else? Hm...I can't really think of anything, so I'll end this note here.**

 **Hope you all enjoyed and leave a review to let us know what you thought! Things are picking up now, folks, so stay with us!**

 **Bye bye!**


	6. Chapter 6:Blue Iris

o.0.o.0.o

"Miss Lissa, this doesn't seem quite safe."

Lissa let out a sigh as she opened the back door and stepped out. Taking a few short steps to the front, Frederick dutifully rolled the window down, brows furrowed as he opened his mouth to continue.

"Even if I detest crowds of people hoarding themselves around you, I would prefer I didn't drop you off in such a vacant place."

"And _I_ would prefer to not have to show up in an expensive luxury car in the back seat like I'm a toddler."

"Well, Lissa," Frederick spoke with pride as he shut his eyes to begin his lecture. "This car happens to be the safest on the market, and if the back seat is safe enough for children to be put back there, then it is just as safe for you."

"Oh, my god." Lissa ran a hand down her face, leaning into the window. "Frederick, this is supposed to be _covert._ Secret, remember? I'm Alissa Juno here, not Lissa Iris, you know this."

"I do, which is why I would prefer to not drop you off at the vacant part of the school. I can only imagine the types that would lurk here…"

"And now you sound like Maribelle…" Lissa trailed off with a sigh. "New rule, Frederick. I get to ride in the front seat, and I want to ride in a normal car. Then I'll take being dropped off at school by you."

"But-"

"If not, I'll have to resort to Emmeryn driving me." Lissa placed a hand over her heart as she smiled. "I mean, Em and I don't get much time to bond, what with her queenly duties and my blooming high school career. I'm sure she'd love to take such little time to bond with me, don't you?"

She opened her eyes and saw that Frederick's fists were clenched around the steering wheel, his jaw clenched so hard that she swore she could hear his teeth grinding to dust. A vein throbbed on his temple, before he suddenly smiled a smile that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Your wish is my command, milady." he spoke simply. "Have a wonderful day."

Then, he drove off. Lissa swallowed the nervous lump forming in her throat, somehow unable to shake the feeling that she made a terrible mistake by threatening him with Emmeryn's driving capabilities. Shaking her head and smacking her cheeks in order to regain her composure, she pushed Frederick's possible threat out of her mind and took a step forward, only for a dirty red pickup truck to come screeching to a halt next to her.

"Ella, come on, ya really need ta-"

Lissa let out a yelp as Donnel was suddenly shoved out of the passenger side door, somersaulting over himself until he landed in a heap next to Lissa. Lissa glanced back up as a brown paper bag and a bookbag was tossed out the door, and it slammed shut with Ella smiling happily, waving goodbye.

Then, as quickly as she came, she sped off. Lissa glanced down at Donny, then slowly knelt beside him.

"Why did you get dropped off back here?"

"Easier than going through the front doors with them jerks trying to steal my cap." Donnel muttered. Lissa felt a pang of sympathy for him. Due to Maribelle's protection, she has yet to experience any bullying or hazing at school...

"So, um, are you and your sister fighting, Donny?"

"Not at all." Donnel sighed. "Ella has this _thing_ in her craw that I ain't makin' no friends here 'cause of status differences. Plus she, um…"

His cheeks lit up bright red and he turned away from her.

"She what?"

"Um, it's kinda embarrassin', but she like to tease me 'bout this stupid childhood presentation 'bout what I wanted to do when I grew up. … Where I announced I wanted to marry my childhood sweetheart, then promptly got on the knee to propose to Susie Copper."

It took every bit of restraint in Lissa to not burst out laughing.

"Go on an' laugh, I was the butt of spin the bottle jokes for years after it." Donnel muttered. "Ella just gets all excited when I start makin' female friends. She went and almost gave me a concussion to invite Nowi for a ride 'cause I gave Nowi my number…"

"Nowi? You mean that girl with the greenish ponytail?"

"Yeah." Donnel sighed. "It's a long story involving a couple 'o jerks who shoved her in a locker. I gave 'er my number 'case she ever needed my help again."

"Oh gosh, that's awful!" Lissa gasped. "Poor girl…"

"Yep." Donnel sighed. "My sis is just lookin' out for me is all. I just wish she wasn't so rough 'bout it!"

"Well, it sounds like she just wants to make sure you're alright."

"Tell me about it." Donnel sighed. "I straight think that no blood relative could love me as much as that girl does outside of my own Ma. She's got so many of 'er own problems, yet she always makin' sure I'm alright."

A brief expression of pure, unaltered worry crossed Donnel's face. Lissa's brow furrowed in worry.

"Is everything alright with her?" Lissa asked. "... Do you need me to call someone?"

"Yeah, if ya know the number to get me in the royal vault." Donnel let out a weak chuckle as Lissa subdued the urge to cringe. She knew exactly how to get in there, if she needed to… "See, my sis got my Pa's truck when he passed away. Ella took all the money she saved an' moved out to make more money for us back home. So she bought that Feroxi Theatre and hoped the rich folks would go and see her plays. 'Cept…"

"Except?"

"Well, I ain't gonna say that it was ever easy for Ella. And ya can't say anything 'bout this, okay?"

"You can trust me, I promise!"

"Ella don't know I know this, but when she first got the theatre, the previous owners left it's reputation in shreds. Was really bad. So she hired some agent to advertise the theatre. Reputation went up an' all seemed well for a while… Then the scumbag stole from my sis."

Lissa was taken aback by the bitter tone in his voice, like he desperately despised the man who destroyed his sisters chance.

"Stole a ton of money. For every cent she took in, he stole a dollar. And Ella never complained 'bout it once. I never would've known she was having troubles unless Cherche, uh, she's our lead costume designer, filled me in on everyone's role in the theatre."

"So how did this subject pop up?"

"One of our gals, Anna, is working as our advertiser right now. She promised results, but I dunno… I just dunno about this." Donnel sighed, pushing his hat off his head in frustration. "My sis specifically told everyone to not tell me 'bout this but Cherche thought it was important I knew the truth so I wouldn't be upset when I found out."

"... Is Ella going to close the theatre?"

"If this next show doesn't do well, yeah." Donnel sighed. "This director she hired is apparently pretty big in the industry. I have no clue how or why she knows him, but she does and called in a favor. She's hopeful, but that's how Ella is. She's always been… optimistic."

"Well… If it's any consolation, I don't think I've ever met someone who has a high likelihood to bounce back from a bad situation like your sister. She might be just as dedicated to her job as my sister is, maybe more!"

"Ya got an older sis too?"

"Yeah! I never mentioned her, Donny?"

"Nope, I reckon you haven't."

"Well, I'm the baby of the family. I've got an older sister and an older brother whom you've already had the misfortune of meeting."

"Brother? … Ya mean the fellow who almost plowed me down the first day, huh?"

"Yep." Lissa sighed. "I'm still really sorry about that. He's so horrible at driving, I don't know why he insists on doing it."

Donnel cracked a smile, and Lissa was glad that she was able to get that out of him, but his worry was practically palpable. He was doing a really good job of hiding it… If the theatre closed down, Lissa was pretty sure that Donnel would have to leave with Ella. It seemed like he felt so out of place here, even as the scholarship student, and he was steadfastly loyal to Ella. What was keeping him from following after his sister?

Even though they don't know about her status, they've always treated her like a person and not a princess… Even if this place was filled with affluent people, Donnel never assumed that she was of higher or lower value. He never assumed that about anyone.

"Well, Lissa, was really great talkin' to ya, but I reckon we should be gettin' to class." Donnel let out a sigh, then smiled as he stood. "Thanks for listenin', Lissa. Felt good to get that all off my chest."

"Anytime! I'm always here to lend an ear."

They both began to make their way to the front doors, thoughts plaguing Lissa's head on how to save the theatre. She was the princess of Ylisse, she must be able to do _something…_

o.0.o.0.o

Nowi was practically skipping down the hallway as she darted between students to get to her next class. Though she wasn't one to get down about being bullied, not even her ripped stockings or scratched up knees could bring her down from the happiness high she was currently running.

Her favorite class was about to start one of her favorite types of units; historical mythology. She wasn't sure what fantastical myths they were going to be covering quite yet, but she knew that she loved the idea of history intertwining so heavily around the myths of the time. Though the heroes they would no doubt discuss weren't nearly as prevelant as Gods, like Naga or Grima, Nowi knew that their existence in stories had to be important, and therefore important to _her._

Not to mention that her teacher very kind and even-headed in a school that favored the rich.

"Good morning, Mr. Tanaka!" Nowi chirped as she plopped her bag in the front row. She always tried to get here a couple of minutes early to talk to Mr. Tanaka before she was ultimately forced to the back of the room by her peers.

"Ah, um, good morning, Miss De- Nowi." Mr. Tanaka fiddled with his glasses as he awkwardly stumbled through his greeting. He offered her a gentle smile. "Would you mind just looking over my presentation briefly, to make sure I didn't make any mistakes with my Ylissean?"

"Sure!" she smiled brightly as Mr. Tanaka opened his presentation.

Nowi couldn't really remember the exact name of the country he was from, but apparently, formality was extremely important. Mr. Tanaka, being young and having recently been recommended to teach here, is still going through the culture shock of adjusting his speech patterns to be more informal than formal.

Additionally, he always had her check over his presentations. She was certain that he did it just so she had a good reason to get out of her previous class a little early in order to come and help him. Now, she was no wizz in Ylissean, and his powerpoints were usually always pristine and perfect. This made her wonder _why_ he chose this excuse to get her here early, but whatever. If she didn't have to deal with bullies for one section of her day, she was fine.

By the time she had confirmed what they both already knew, that the presentation was perfect, other classmates were starting to file in, and she had to move her bag to the back.

"Now then, class, today we are going to start discussing the mythology surrounding Ylisse's history." Mr. Tanaka stood, using his electronic whiteboard to begin his presentation.

There, the class had laid eyes upon an mural of an ethereal woman emerging from the back of a dragon, while a man with white hair and ominous red eyes kneeled cackling below a monster of a dragon.

"As we have already learned, this world was created long ago and suffered in darkness and calamity until King Marth of Archaea rose up and brought peace to the land with his Queen, Ceada. Ultimately, we know that even today's royalty of Ylisse were descended from the Hero-King Marth. However, popular mythology likes to detail that Naga, the Divine Leader of the Divine Dragons, heavily aided Marth in his journey by blessing him with the mythical Fire Emblem. Additionally, if we look through history of many countries, the Fire Emblem is often mentioned."

"So is the Fire Emblem the same in all of these countries?" the question came from Donnel, which immediately brought a chorus of chuckles from the class. Nowi clenched her fists. It wasn't a stupid question… After all, with so many parts of history sharing a similarly named object, there was bound to be confusion.

"No. Throughout history, it takes the form of a different object and originated from different tales. For instance, in my home country, Hoshido, our Fire Emblem supposedly took on the form of a sword, whereas here in Ylisse, the Fire Emblem took on the form of a shield. The Fire Emblem is now nothing more than a title for an object that supposedly helped to combat great evil in mythology."

Moving to his next slide, he continued.

"Adversely, we have Grima, whom is a dragon of darkness and destruction, supposedly created by man made means by a mad alchemist named Forneus in a country formerly known as Valentia, now known as Valm. This was not long after Marth supposedly worked with Naga. However, it was rumored that in order to survive, Grima took Forneus as it's host, forcing the alchemist into being nothing more than a puppet to host Grima's heart so that it would not be overwhelmed by the maddening destruction. Throughout history, Grima has made several comebacks, only to be sealed away by the first Exalt of Ylisse, again with the help of Naga. Now, then,"

Mr. Tanaka turned and smiled.

"This was all simply a premise to what we will actually be talking about in the upcoming week. Because what our topic is, after all, is history of Ylisse, not Valm or Archenea."

Ricken rose his hand, sitting studiously in the front of the classroom.

"Yes, Ricken?"

"Mr. Tanaka, we are supposed to assume that these dragons are not real, correct?"

"Yes."

"If I recall correctly, the myths of Ylisse revolve heavily around a story of betrayal, possession, and even time-travel. How and by what means would that be explained away?"

"All something that will be covered in due time, I assure you." Mr. Tanaka promised. "After all, there are many possibilities behind those myths, and we can certainly account that they may or may not be historically accurate."

"Isn't it said that one or two of the soldiers in these myths could _transform_ into dragons?" one girl cut in snidely.

"You would be talking about the mythical race of manaketes, yes."

"Then we know for a fact that this is false, if dragons didn't exist."

"... Or it was embellished upon. Remember, class, these are myths _surrounding_ our history, not actual history." Mr. Tanaka briefly shut the remarks down then turned to the board. "Now then, we'll officially begin this week by discussing the Shepherds, also known as Krom's Vigilantes. As the name suggests, the group was comprised of soldiers and heroes that worked exclusively under the direction of Prince Krom of Iris. Now, there are some minor records that may prove that _some_ of these soldiers existed, but in the end, it's hard to decipher what was real, fabricated, or simply embellished upon. We will spend the next few days talking about each soldier individually, which will eventually compile into a final project. Today, however, we will be taking each story one at a time, starting with the one fellow that no one seems to ever remember!"

With a simple flourish of his hand, Mr. Tanaka presented the class with a picture of a knight whom they learned was named Callum. The rest of the lesson proceeded with Mr. Tanaka discussing Callum's basic almost non-existence in mythology and how the only thing he was really remembered for was marrying a headstrong and money-loving merchant. In fact, the marriage certificate of the day was the only thing that ever proved he existed to begin with.

o.0.o.0.o

"Achoo!"

Kellam's sneeze echoed throughout the theatre, rubbing his nose as he heard a startled yelp. With a dull expression on his face, Kellam watched as Demyan tumbled from the rafters, clearly having just woken up.

"Dammit, ow…" Demyan slowly stood, arching his back to stretch and popping a few muscles and joints. "Kellam, you need to say something if you're gonna be lurking around! Next time I won't be so lucky."

"You shouldn't be sleeping on the job, then." Kellam muttered, a little irked that Demyan had failed to notice his presence again. "And by the way, Demyan, you're supposed to be helping me set up for this. Ella's going to be upset."

"Yeah, well, I fell asleep waiting for you." Demyan yawned again as Kellam let out a sigh. He wasn't going to bother mentioning that he had been here since Demyan had. "Besides, I've finished my job hours ago."

Proudly, Demyan unveiled a blood spattered tarp. The point of it, according to Henry, was to have lights start flashing wildly with intense music playing. Between the flashes, stagehands would be moving around the set in order to switch the scene into a bloodstained one. Somehow, however, Kellam wasn't surprised Demyan got such a simple job as throwing fake blood at a tarp.

Demyan let out a low whistle as he looked around the set.

"Man, we did a good job, didn't we?"

"You mean I did. You were sleeping in the rafters the whole time."

"Same difference, so long as it's do-" Demyan was cut off halfway through as a notebook hurled across the theatre like a frisbee and smacked into his temple. His entire body was thrown to the floor as the notebook bounced back, leaving him sprawled on his back.

Finally, he spasmed to life and leapt up.

"What the hell, Ella?! Did you not see me fall from the rafters?! Are you trying to give me a concussion?!"

Ella stomped up the steps to the stage, angrily signing to Demyan, whom was still on the ground. Now, Kellam didn't understand much sign, but between Demyan translating for the crew, his own personal experience, and Donnel often giving a helping hand, Kellam could easily tell that Demyan was being scolded. If he was a cat, Kellam was certain his ears would be folded back in guilt.

Then, he started recognizing his name getting thrown into the mix, along with Ella wildly looking around, the ire clear on her face.

"I'm over here, Ella." Kellam announced. Ella jumped, glanced at him, then smiled, signing again.

"Did you do all this, Kellam? Good job!" Demyan purposely spoke with a higher pitch, as if to mock Ella. Switching his voice back to normal, he stood. "Damn… Between you and Cherche, it's wonder I'm still alive."

"Well, perhaps if you didn't sleep in places that could harm you, you wouldn't be in risk of getting harmed."

Cherche's smile was chilling as she came from the left wing, causing Demyan and Kellam to freeze in place. Even though Kellam wasn't necessarily in the wrong, it didn't make Cherche's threat just hanging there any less terrifying. In truth, Kellam wasn't sure who was scarier, Cherche or Henry… Perhaps Cherche, since Henry likes to joke so much that Kellam was certain he wouldn't actually _act_ on his jokes. But if Cherche makes a threat… Then oh boy, did she mean that threat.

"Besides, I'm sure my dear Minerva would love to have a word with you! She does so enjoy new guests." Cherche folded her hands to her chest as doom seemed to seep over Demyan's form. Her tone was icy, but her smile never dropped. "I think she'd convince you to not sleep much better than Ella or I… After all, it would be terribly difficult to sleep if she's chasing you in your nightmares."

" _Yes, yes, I agree!"_ Ella signed and, for once, Kellam hated that he understood what she had said. He swallowed a lump in his throat as Demyan's eye twitched at Ella's agreement. Certainly, Kellam knew simply by her suppressed giggles, that Ella was joking with Demyan, yanking him by the tail. But Cherche… Cherche wasn't partial to jokes.

"I'm good!" Demyan blurted out quickly. "Fine! Peachy! Say, Ella is there anything else you need me to do to get away from this mad woman?"

Ella beamed and Cherche turned, her smile warm and motherly again.

"I'm so happy we could come to an agreement. And Demyan, volunteering to do work? This might call for a round of cookies!"

Yes, Kellam decided, Cherche was much creepier than Henry, simply because she could switch so fast between threatening and motherly.

Just at the thought drifted through his mind, the doors to the foyer slammed open. There, with a beaming smile on her face and hair in it's signature pony, was Anna, though she looked excessively happy right now. Kellam wondered if she found some good coupons or got a bargain. She always liked to talk to him about her coupon system and even helped him and some of the crew save a little money by teaching them about deals and such.

Anna, though a little eccentric and money hungry, was a good person at heart who tried her hardest to forge success. _Especially_ considering what the previous marketing manager had done to Ella. When that was revealed… Well, Kellam shuddered to think what would've happened had Demyan or Cherche actually managed to get their hands on him.

"Guys, guys, guys!" Anna didn't even bother to go for the steps, instead vaulting herself up on the stage. Kellam reached out a hand to fully yank her up, and she smiled at him appreciatively. Another thing he liked about Anna; she always seemed to recognize that he was there without him having to announce it. "You won't believe it, I've just gotten us a huge, and I mean HUGE, opportunity!"

"Is everything okay?" Demyan translated for Ella. "What's going on? What opportunity?"

"So you know how this town is filled with successful, _rich_ people, right? And those successful, rich people have kids who need to go to school, _right?"_

"Yeah, so?" Demyan asked.

"Well, I did some digging," Anna closed her eyes with a victorious look on her face, finger to her cheek as if she had just one-upped everyone. "And I found out that Shield of Flames University is having a career festival to teach their students about possible internships. So I, being the best marketing manager in the world, went and _secured us a spot._ Oh, and by the way, there's gonna be students from the Iris Academy there as well. Just some food for thought."

A pin could've dropped in the room as they all processed this. Kellam knew about Shield of Flames and Iris Academy. Both are extremely prestigious and well-known schools known for pumping out successful students from very influential families. In simple terms, the students slogan could be _Our parents are super rich and we're destined to be as well._

"It was a long shot, considering this place's reputation, but I went in and I told them everything about everyone. I told them about our actors, about our directors, our stage hands, I even mentioned that Cherche could take on some apprentices in the costume design department. They were even interested in _you_ , Ella. They said that a lot of their education students don't actually have a lot of experience working with people who are simply mute. They threw some statistic at me, did you know you're a part of less than one percent of the population, Ella?"

Anna shrugged her shoulders as if her actions were really no big deal at all, speaking smugly as she continued.

"They said something along the lines of us being at the festival a "considerable and interesting opportunity for young workers across multiple departments". From an advertiser standpoint, this is perfect. Us getting involved in the community and getting people excited will entice people to want to support us. In other terms, Ella, I hit the nail on the head!"

Kellam glanced back at Ella, who had tears forming around the corner of her eyes, though her big, goofy smile hadn't faded at all. Demyan let out a chuckle.

"Not like you to be so quiet, Ella."

Ella ignored him, running across the stage and tackling Anna into a huge hug. Giving her a huge kiss on the cheek, Ella practically was throttling the woman with her hug.

"Okay, okay, I get it, you're welcome!" Anna exclaimed, pushing Ella back with a small grin. "So we know Ella's on board, but what about everyone else? Are you ready to get this place filled to the brim every night?!"

The roar of cheers from the small group was answer enough. Ella looked like she was about to cry again, but quickly scrubbed the tears away and took charge.

"I'm going to go get Donny. Everyone sit here and discuss then fill us in on what's going on later. Oh, Demyan!"

Demyan faltered slightly in his translation when Ella signed his name. She continued to sign then leapt off the stage, practically sprinting with her keys in hand.

"What did she want?" Kellam asked, causing everyone on stage to flinch but Anna.

"She wanted me to get Olivia, Henry, and Virion here ASAP so we can go to the diner to celebrate and discuss. She wants them in on this as well."

"Well of course!" Anna exclaimed as if it were obvious. "They're our stars, and Henry will definitely attract attention!"

"Hopefully the right kind of attention." Demyan sighed, pulling out his phone. "I'm gonna head to the office to get their contact info."

"You do that, I'll go get a table at Gregor's." Cherche offered, going down the steps of the stage and striding across the theatre.

"This is going to be great, Kellam." Anna whispered under her breath, her voice renewed with hope. "I'm going to save this place if it kills me."

Anna caught his eye and smiled brightly at him. Kellam's heart warmed at the idea of this place being saved.

"I know that you will." Kellam responded. "Tell me what to do to help."

o.0.o.0.o

"Order up!" Gaius yelled, slamming his hand onto the bell in order to grab the attention of the waitresses. Immediately, Cordelia came to grab the order, taking it away with the grace and balance that she was practically known for here.

Truth be told, the pre-dinner rush was a little slow tonight. Even though it was barely three thirty, Gaius was used to all the afternoon college kids getting out of classes and coming in for a meal. It was pretty slow right now, but even still, it didn't mean that it wasn't going to heat up later.

Unwrapping a piece of chocolate, he stuck it between his teeth. If things were slow, then it meant he could get more candy in before they were slammed and he was going into diabetic shock from lack of sugar by the end of it all.

Gregor strode past the window, practically skipping, humming to himself.

"Oh, hell…" Gaius cursed under his breath. Gregor humming was never a good thing when the restaurant was almost empty. After all, Gregor liked to make money and liked to be surrounded by people. When neither were happening and he was still humming, it meant that he was in trouble.

Because the last time that Gregor hummed like that, Gaius had to make a birthday cake for Nowi. A five tier, four layered, dragon themed birthday cake to celebrate her officially becoming a teenager when she turned thirteen. Of course, Gaius had gotten a five month supply of his favorite lollipops out of it, so he didn't complain...much. It only took him many sleepless nights to get that crystalized sugar dragon _just_ right.

"Alright, fess up," Gaius said, resting his head on his hands as Gregor passed again. "What are you about to spring on me?"

"What?" Gregor asked, looking affronted, though his gleeful smile gave away his true emotions. "Gregor cannot be happy just cause?"

"You can be happy, old man, you always are, but you aren't usually humming like that." Gaius stated, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What is it? Fess up."

"Gregor give, Gaius got good eye." Gregor sighed, though his smile didn't diminish one bit. "Gregor happy cause Gregor's Diner got spot at Shield of Flames Career Festival."

"Really?!" Nowi cried as she ran towards her foster father, excitedly grabbing his hand in her own. "You'll be there?!"

"Yes, wee Nowi will be there too, yes?" Gregor smiled, ruffling her hair.

"Yes, yes! At first it was only to get out of school, but now I know my family is going to be there!"

"Oi, Nowi!" Gregor's tone took on a scolding tone as Nowi spun in a circle. "No shirking on your studies!"

"I'm not shirking!" Nowi laughed as she spun in a big circle, hands going up in a cheer. "But now I can't wait!

"Can't wait for what?" Cherche asked as she walked in the diner and made her way to where they stood.

"The old man got us a spot at that uni's career fair." Gaius answered her question with a sigh. "And, let me guess, I have to make a bunch of food to show off and to give away as free samples. Should I prepare a speech about how wonderful it is to work here?"

"Would be helpful." Gregor smiled pleadingly. "Big opportunity to bring in customers and more workers. Hopefully give Sumia break."

"As if expressing how much you like it here is difficult," Nowi rolled her eyes, reaching over the divide between the kitchen and the dining room and poking his nose. "You love this place and everyone knows it."

"You better sweeten the deal real good this time, old man." Gaius shook his head with a sigh before he muttered to himself. "The things I do for you…"

"You're family too, Gaius, that's why Gregor's always asking you to help." Nowi insisted, turning to her foster father for support. "He knows he can rely on you to do a good job. Right, Gregor?"

"Very right!" Gregor affirmed. "Gaius is like son to Gregor and always does best when Gregor needs him most. Very reliable boy!"

"Yeah, okay." Gaius snorted. He shook his head and crossed his arms, but couldn't get the smile off his face. If 'fondly exasperated' was an emotion, Gaius was certain he was feeling it right now. "But don't think you're getting outta compensation, old man. I don't do work for free."

"Yes, only work for money or sweet treat, Gregor understands."

"The theatre is going to be there to." Cherche cut in, a calm smile on her face. "I don't know how, but Anna got us a position there."

Gregor immediately walked around the counter and lifted Cherche into a bear hug.

"This great news for Ella!" Gregor exclaimed, practically swinging Cherche around. "Great, wonderful news! Ella happy, yes?"

"Yes, she was, she almost cried." Cherche laughed. "Put me down, please? I came over to give you fair warning; we've got nine people coming for dinner, we're going to discuss how to take this opportunity and make it work for the best of the theatre."

"Oh, but we must celebrate, yes?" Gregor asked, placing Cherche back on her feet with a big grin. "Very big opportunity and chance! Gregor will celebrate with you, dinner on Gregor!"

"You're too generous." Cherche laughed, patting his arm. "But don't worry, as long as you don't tell Ella. I'll slip the money back to Donny and he'll get it back to his sister."

"Yaaaaay, a party!" Nowi cheered. "This is so great! I'll come and visit and drag my classmates along! Also, also, I'll get our frequent college customers to come and pay you a visit! Your booth will be hopping in no time!"

"Oi, who do you work for, Nowi?"

"I'm not getting paid so it doesn't matter!" Nowi sang out as she threw her hands in the air to excitedly greet some customers coming in.

"Geez, I think maple syrup might be less sappy than you." Gaius sighed, shooing them away. "Gregor, take your date and move it, I can't serve food if you're in the way of my counter!"

"Pay Gaius no mind, Cherche, Gaius simply jealous of Gregor's pretty lady friend while he all alone."

"Haha, very funny." Gaius rolled his eyes as the printer printed another receipt for him to cook.

A smiled played at his lips as he began to make a batch of pancakes. There was never a boring day here, at least, and he'd take it over the life he'd previously been living any day. Besides, he owed Gregor a lot and, no matter how much of a fight he'd put up, he'd help the old man out any way he could...as long as he was compensated, of course.

"Gaius!" he heard Gregor's voice boom over the sound of excited chattering. Gaius already knew that it was the theatre crew, celebrating and "discussing" their new opportunity. "Gregor want milkshakes for all Cherche's friends, yes?"

"Gotcha covered, old man!"

o.0.o.0.o

"The Taguel, eh?"

Emmeryn's hands were folded neatly as she nodded resolutely to Gangrel. He stroked his chin in thought, leaning back in his chair as he contemplated her question.

"Information brokers and blackmailers they may be, they've always been loyal to the crown and have been extremely helpful in uniting our nations, what with all their abundant knowledge." Emmeryn spoke. "They always kept in frequent touch with me, but I haven't heard from them in over two weeks, President Saxe. Have you heard anything from them?"

"No." Gangrel shook his head, causing Emmeryn's heart to sink.

Though there was currently peace between Plegia and Ylisse, Emmeryn did not typically reach out to Gangrel in order to ask about the Taguel specifically. The spies were often unspoken heroes that no one ever openly discussed, less it jeopardize their information gathering. Their system was so intricately complex that Emmeryn honestly didn't and couldn't tell who was or wasn't a taguel. They've managed to integrate themselves into society when needed, only to gather back together in order to discuss what they've learned.

"Although…" Gangrel trailed off thoughtfully. "I will say that, on our borders, there was a massive explosion. I would know, because the fires that came from that explosion nearly destroyed any crops we did manage to grow over there. It could've ruined Plegia. We still lost a significant amount, but anything that was there was completely obliterated. We don't know what was blown up, but I still have fire marshal's investigating."

"Ga-" Emmeryn swallowed her near slipup and continued. "Elected Leader Saxe, you don't believe that the Taguel…?"

"Like I said, I'm not sure." Gangrel drummed his hands on the counter. "I got a message roughly three weeks ago saying that they were going to have one of their meetings "soon" and not to contact them within the next week."

"I also received that message." Emmeryn spoke.

"Then, by the end of that week, there was the explosion."

"You don't think…"

"I'm not sure, but the timing sure is convenient." Gangrel let out another sigh, rubbing his temple. "Not having them sure has been a pain. Once the investigation is complete, I'll forward the information to you. Is that fair?"

"Extremely. Thank you." Emmeryn nodded once, bidding farewell to the elected leader before hanging up the video call.

"It seems not even Plegia knows what became of the taguel." Frederick muttered under his breath as he stood guard at the door. Phila stood just as strongly beside him, brow furrowed in worry.

"You don't think someone found out about that flashdrive, do you?" Phila asked.

"It can be the only case, I fear." Emmeryn's tone was somber as she bowed her head. "The Taguel may be dead… And the information they had is either lost or in the wrong hands completely."

"When did you last get an update on the flashdrive?"

"Shortly before that bombing, if it did take place later in the week." Emmeryn spoke. "Thursday, I believe. It was near completed and they were going to send me the location where it was to be delivered to, specifically to the two of you."

Emmeryn's gaze trailed out the window, nervously wringing her hands.

"I was hoping beyond hope that Elected Leader Saxe would have heard from them. Given my father's papers when I took the throne, this threat is nothing more than a rumor, but it is still there…"

"With all due respect, milady, we don't even know if the Taguel's base _was_ bombed." Frederick tried to establish the benefit of doubt. "If there was such a terrible bombing so close to our border, why haven't we heard about it?"

"Because the threat the Taguel was gathering information on is trying to cover their tracks." Emmeryn spoke grimly. "They're trying to hide it from us."

"But make it obvious to Plegia? Possibly the rest of the world?" Phila shook her head. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I." Emmeryn whispered under her breath. "If what Gangrel and my father mentioned is true, then I grow more and more worried of this threat, Frederick, Phila. And I fear that it will be too much for us to handle, for Ylisse to handle, alone."

Emmeryn rubbed her temple in silent contemplation. In truth, when she took the crown at the ripe age of eighteen, she knew that she had to mend bonds with Plegia. Their countries always had a tumultuous relationship, riddled with wars, hate crimes on either side, and even religious persecution and public beatings at one point. Her father had not been one to help, purposely vilifying Plegians to such an extent that the stories still scarred many young people today. At that point in time, there was an unsteady "peace" among them where neither would dare to bother the other. But something in her heart, like a yearning, aching, screaming pain, begged her to mend ties, or something terrible was bound to happen.

Perhaps it was simply anxiety because of how militarized their country was? She wasn't sure. But regardless, she started to desperately get in contact with the leaders there in order to make peace. However, the then advisors running the country as a new leader was elected would only laugh at her attempts, wanting nothing to do with a 'Prom Queen'. They had underestimated her due to her age, unfortunately. It took a long two years before she finally managed to actually contact Gangrel, whom was surprisingly open to peace.

In truth, she had later found out, he was open to anything that would help lost and wayward Plegians.

But to get this truth… The truth on that very special flashdrive, Emmeryn fought for that peace. Gangrel, to an extent, understood the importance of that flashdrive as well. Especially considering that this threat was rampant in his country and he was trying desperately, and discreetly, to stamp it out without alarming his citizens.

"Emm?" the muffled voice of her sister came with a resounding knock to her office door. Phila and Frederick glanced at each other as Emmeryn hurriedly turned off her computer monitor detailing what was going on. She glanced at Frederick and Phila, both silently asking if they should send her away. "Emm, is this a bad time?"

"No, not at all!" she called out as Phila opened the door. Lissa smiled at her.

"Dr. Shore!" Lissa grinned. "Man, it feels like it's been forever! Catching up with my sister?"

"Yes, Miss Lissa. How is school? Are you coping with the stress all right?"

"Oh, fine. My biggest stressors so far have been Chrom's driving and Frederick's smothering. I'm thinking about riding the bus there at this point!"

"Absolutely not, that is entirely unbefitting." Frederick openly lectured.

"You said the same thing about going to school and look where I am now!" Lissa grinned victoriously.

"You had something you wanted to ask me, Lissa?" Emmeryn cut in, smiling gently.

"Oh yeah! So you remember Donnel Tinhead, right?"

"The charity student I chose, yes." Emmeryn smiled fondly, recalling his letter. "He's a remarkable young man, and his love for his family and home was astounding in his letter. How is he?"

"Well… Not as great as he could be." Lissa's expression took on a flash of hurt. "See, there's this old theatre, Feroxi Theatre, that his sister owns and it's… Well, both her and the theatre fell on rough times. And he told me about this and then I thought, hey, I'm a princess! So I can totally find a way to fund this place because it's doing really, really badly right now. Like, if the next show doesn't succeed then they'll have to close and move away badly. So can we help support them? Please?"

"Miss Lissa…" Phila trailed off, shocked as the princess's request.

"Miss, did this young man put you up to such a stunt?" Frederick's voice was dangerously low. "Did he find out about your status and is blackmailing you?"

"No way!"

"Absolutely not!"

The expressions came from the sisters at the same time, Lissa's gaze filled with fury while Emmeryn was giving Frederick a stern look.

"Donny is great! He never asked for help or ever told me any of his problems until I stuck my nose in and he just unloaded this all on me! I feel _bad_ for him, Frederick! His sister works her butt off every single day and it may just shut her down in the end! Not to mention she's always smiling and doing her best to hide it from her brother because she doesn't want to worry him!"

"Even still, Miss," Phila cut in, taking on a gentler tone than Frederick, hoping to ease Lissa's emotions. "As nobility, you can't just hand out money because you feel bad for someone."

"But why not?! If citizens need help, then we should be able to help them, shouldn't we?"

"Lissa, I understand your frustration." Emmeryn cut in gently. "But by doing what you are suggesting… It's not fair to the other citizens. They would also want me to save their failing businesses when, at its core, there's fault in the owner for why the business if failing."

"That's not true! Are you blaming Ella?!"

"I'm not, Lissa, please try to understand, you're putting me in a difficult situation right now." Emmeryn pleaded with her younger sister. "Donnel is already a charity student on my behalf, and many people were not happy about that, Lissa."

"So you're refusing to help because of what a bunch of people might say?"

"Lissa," Frederick's voice boomed. "Have you perhaps considered your friend in all of this? What about your sister? Your brother? I'm not a fool, I've seen how people have been treating him for his status in the Academy. What do you think they will do to his sister if they find out that the same Queen who funded his schooling is funding her theatre? They'll think they have something over her, that she rigged the contest in their favor. It will call to question the very image of your sister, Miss Lissa, whom was assumed irresponsible and irrational due to how young she was when she was given the title of Exalted Queen. If enough shame and distrust is mounted against Lady Emmeryn, then it opens a leeway of problems that we will somehow have to figure out how to deal with. And God forbid something happened to your sister that forced her to step down or worse. Her presence is the only thing keeping us in good standing with Plegia. Chrom, of course, would be next in line. Any dreams he may or may not have would be turned to dust. And as we all know, he is much to impulsive to delicately handle this alliance. Would you be so willing to risk that? Risk Chrom's youth and force him to give it all up for the sake of this charity student's sister?"

There was dead silence when Frederick finished. Lissa was staring at her shoes before slowly meeting Emmeryn's eyes with a watery gaze. Emmeryn bit her lip, then turned her head away, wringing her hands under the desk.

There was a loud sniffle, then Lissa ran out of the room. However, her leaving did not lift the tension in the air.

"That was too harsh, Frederick." Emmeryn muttered to herself. "You didn't have to make it out like her asking for help was going to completely destroy her siblings lives."

"Was what I said untrue?"

"It would be the worst possible scenario, true, but you may have exaggerated a bit." Phila chimed in. "But even still… I agree with Frederick, Your Majesty. If the business is failing, Miss Lissa shouldn't expect us to bail them out over and over again. It would look bad on our part."

"I know." Emmeryn murmured under her breath. "Just… Give me a moment, will you? I need to collect myself, then I'll go and speak to Lissa. We will continue our discussion about the Taguel's tomorrow."

"As you wish, milady." Frederick bowed politely, then left the room. Phila lingered, gaze worried as she hovered.

"Are you alright, Emmeryn?" she asked, dropping the formalities.

"I'm fine. Just tired and a little sad." Emmeryn met Phila's gaze with a weak smile. "I always did hate seeing them cry."

"If you're certain…" Phila trailed off with a sigh. "Just call me if you're not feeling well."

With that, she shut the door, closing it softly behind her. Emmeryn waited for a few moments for her footsteps to fade, then began to research this Feroxi Theatre. Surprisingly, it was on all manners of social media, accompanied with pictures of the cast, crew, and the owner. On the theatre website was information about the upcoming theatrical release, directed by Henry Crowe.

"Henry Crowe…" Emmeryn murmured, wracking her brain for where she had heard the name before, glancing over the brief description of him on the website. "A Plegian playwright and director, known for his mystery and horror-themed productions…"

Leaning back in her chair for a moment, she contemplated, listening for movement outside her door. Then, she opened another tab.

"Exalted Queen Emm-"

"It's okay, Frederick and Phila are gone. I'm alone."

"Ah, your Excellency," Gangrel's tone was sarcastic, teasing, not at all as formal as it was earlier when the spoke. "Calling back so soon? How honored am I!"

He barked out a laugh, clearly more relaxed.

"Gangrel, I have a question." Emmeryn spoke once he was finished.

"Well, shoot. But make it quick, I don't have all day."

"Have you ever heard of the director 'Henry Crowe'?"

o.0.o.0.o

 _Donnel heard the sounds of a mellow, resonant of some form of flute began to echo throughout his hometown like they did every evening, interrupting his revere about his wishes and hopes for his life. He knew it was a wind instrument of some sort, but was unsure what it was, exactly. His grandmother, whom was very interested in music before old age caught up to her, stated the instrument was a 'wind-vessel' instrument called the ocarina._

" _Oc-a-ri-na." he muttered the syllables under his breath, frowning slightly. He liked the word 'flute' better. It rolled easily off his tongue._

" _Deni!" his mother yelled from the house. "Go fetch Elsa! The girl's gotta learn to stop staying out so late. Dire times, these are, especially for pretty young women."_

" _Yeah, Ma!" he exclaimed, standing up, the tin pot on his head falling over his eyes slightly before he adjusted it slightly. He grabbed his hastily made spear, simply a long stick with a bronze spearhead tied to the tip and gauze wrapped around some parts to avoid splinters, and jogged to the forest that surrounded his island town, looking for the girl._

" _Heya! Elsa! Ma wants us to be gittin' home!" he exclaimed. There was a slight rustling, and he grinned. Elsa must've been climbing up in the trees again…_

" _Found ya, ya whelp!" a rather large man exclaimed as he ran out of the bushes, axe raised. Donnel stood shellshocked for a moment before he swiftly dodged out of the way of the axe out of sheer terror. Something slammed down on the head of the ruffian, causing him to lose his bearings for a moment to deal with pain resonating throughout his skull._

" _E-Elsa!" Donnel exclaimed as the young woman who looked to be around seventeen years old hopped out from behind the bandit. "Elsa, what're ya doin'?!"_

 _The girl turned back to the bandit, who was slowly regaining his bearings. Quickly, she grabbed his hand, turning it palm up and scribbling out some words on it with her finger. He took a breath, trying to focus on the words she was writing, silently wishing his friend was not mute._

 _"_ _ **We're being attacked by bandits! I'll explain the clothes later, but we need to get your mother and escape**_! _" with that, the young woman gripped his hand tighter, and bolted towards the town. At this, the acrid smell of smoke hit his senses like a wave. His eyes watered and his lungs burned, but horror dropped into his stomach like an iron ball._

 _His town was on fire. His friends, his comrades, his mother was screaming and running in terror. He saw bandits trying to corral them into a single area, one bandit ordering the others around._

 _"Haul all of 'em off to the slave camp! Every good man and woman is worth a pretty bit of gold! The man who finds the traitor and brings her to me gets a quarter of all the earnings!" a loud cheer erupted, and Donnel cast a glance at Ella as she edged them towards the open doors and lowered bridge._

 _"Elsa, are you-?!" he asked in a panic as he saw the girl's eyes flicker from determination to fear._

 _"There she is!" someone yelled. Ella snapped her head up, seeing a group of bandits jump to chase them. An angry hum echoed at the back of Ella's throat and she bolted towards the bridge._

 _"Someone raise the bridge!" someone shouted when they were halfway across._

 _"We ain't gonna make it!" Donnel exclaimed as Ella got to the edge, it practically halfway off the ground. Ella took a deep breath, wrapped an arm around Denis' waist, then taking a flying leap off the edge. Much to the surprise to Donnel, they landed safely on the sandy beaches that connected to the land. Donnel let out a sigh of relief, clutching his silly little lance tightly._

 _"Think you can escape from me, ya little whelps?" a deep, gravelly voice asked. Donnel turned as Ella glanced at the bandit she smacked over the head with a branch. He rose from the water, holding his axe up menacingly. "Now then, you stupid kid, I'll chop you up and we'll feed ya to the fish!"_

 _At this, Ella stood, glaring menacingly. Donnel wasn't sure whether or not be entranced or terrified as she raised her arms, bow now in hand, and shot._

o.0.o.0.o

Donnel shot up in bed with a gasp, a cold sweat clinging to his entire body as the dream flooded back to his memory. He glanced around his room, eyes barely adjusting to the dark as he struggled to figure out what happened. When did he fall asleep?

"Was only a dream…" he muttered to himself, staring at his still shivering hands. "Was only a dream…"

He fell back on his pillow with a low groan. He was never one for having very lucid, vivid dreams, but good god that felt real. He almost had half a mind to call his Ma and creep up to his sister's room to make sure both were okay. However, he wasn't willing to face the tongue lashing from his mother or the actual lashing from Demyan if he got caught.

Maybe his head was all jumbled because of stress and he was dreaming of bandits and such because of the history lesson today? He had no clue. Why the heck was Ella called Elsa? And himself… Ella called him _Denis._

"Stupid dreamin'..." Donnel muttered, rolling over and trying to get comfortable. It was a little past midnight and he still had to get his butt in gear so he could go to school tomorrow. As his eyes drifted shut, slowly easing back to sleep, his cell phone on his nightstand vibrated, shocking him.

Floundering in his sheets and blankets, he rolled over and made a blind grab for the noisy contraception, finally managing answer the phone.

"'ello?!" he nearly shouted, so wound up that he nearly missed the call.

"Whoa, you sound awake!"

Donnel's brain misfired for a moment as he tried to connect two and two together.

"Lissa?" he asked. "Lissa… What are ya...? How'd ya even get my number?"

"Your sister! She was so open about it to, I'm really glad I asked."

Donnel internally groaned as he laid back down. He knew Ella would've recognized Lissa since Lissa literally made it evident that she considered them friends, but he didn't expect Ella to get all slap-happy with giving his number away. He'd have to discuss that with her at some point, though he's certain she'll just play innocent…

"Donny?" Lissa's voice held some concern. "Oh good grief, I did wake you up, didn't I? I'm so sorry, I was just thinking about how I could help you and your sis all day and night and then I waited to late to call you…! This was all such a dumb idea and I just wanted to help-"

"Naw, ya didn't wake me." Donnel shook his head, rubbing his eyes. "I was jes' thinkin' is all. Yer call surprised the heck outta me. Is everything alright? Do ya need something?"

"Nope! I just came up with a genius idea to save your sister's theatre."

That got Donnel at full attention. He bolted upright, listening intently.

"Donny, have you ever considered looking for work?"

"Well, 'course!" Donnel exclaimed. "Thing is, I've tried before and ain't no one hirin' unless you've got a good reputation. And all the fast food joints are lookin' for workers in the day so I can't go to school."

"Well, my brothers university is having a career day, you know? It's a big festival, and they're inviting Iris Academy to come and look around. I know it's meant to get you thinking about your future, but-"

"I might be able to get a job there." Donnel whispered.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"My sister, the theatre got a spot there!" Donnel whisper shouted into the phone. "They… They plannin' on gettin' help from the students an'- an' advertisin' and such!"

"Exactly my train of thought!" Lissa grinned. "I know this is a change of pace for you, but not everyone is bad here. I'm sure someone will want to hire you. You're honest and hardworking and passionate and you've got a good heart! My sister always told me that fortune favors the good, and I know you and your sis are in for some good luck!"

"Um, uh… Y-Yeah…" Donnel felt his cheeks go red from the sudden rush of compliments. "Ya really think so, Lissa?"

"I know so!" Lissa encouraged him.

"Alright, then! But, one condition though."

"Yeah?"

"Let's bring Nowi with us."

"Nowi?"

"Yeah. Her Pop's got a place there to so she'll definitely be there." Donnel explained. "She's a barrel 'o laughs, as long as I've known 'er, so maybe she can help too."

"Sure!" Lissa agreed easily. "The more the merrier! Ooooh, this is so exciting! I can't wait!"

"Hey, if ya keep chattering 'bout being excited, you ain't never gonna get ta sleep." Donnel laughed, suddenly feeling quite a bit more optimistic. "I'll see ya tomorrow, 'kay?"

"Gotcha!" Donnel could practically see her smile. "This is going to work out for you, Donny, I promise!"

"Thank ya kindly, Lissa." he smiled warmly. "G'night."

"Night, night! Sweet dreams!"

Donnel hung up the phone, then eased back down onto his pillows. In truth, he was actually glad that Lissa had called when she did. Her upbeat and straightforward personality was a nice change to the nightmare he just had. Thinking about the idea to help the theatre with Lissa lulled him into a comfortable sense of security.

He didn't have anymore dreams that night.

o.0.o.0.o

 **Everyone! It has been way, way, WAY too long since we've updated, but we did it! We updated! And cranked it all out in four days to boot, a new record! And VAU is now over a year old too! And, hey, this chapter is long then last, right? Right?**

 **In any case, sorry about the long wait everyone! We actually planned this chapter out back in February (and what we originally planned is only partially here cause certain characters wanted to get the spotlight) and then we cranked it all out in, that's right, four days. I'm ridiculously proud of us, especially Amy cause she revised and perfected the outline I gave her at a remarkable speed!**

 **Now, onto other things! No new reviews, but thanks to all 12 followers, 8 favorites and 1,050 readers! I hope you guys enjoyed this beast of a chapter, it has a LOT of plot point I enjoy popping up (can you guess? Plenty of hints to be found...)**

 **Oh! Before I forget, just like most characters in this story, Mr. Tanaka is also a FE character (and probably a bit easier to guess than the previous ones), so have fun with that!**

 **I won't say any more, cause I want to keep the surprise this story holds a little longer, so I hope you all enjoyed! Leave a review to let us know what you think and we'll see you (hopefully) soon! Bye for now!**


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